Oceano nox
by Rose de Sharon
Summary: Nine years post-AWE. Jack is in deep trouble… Can Will save him from “A sudden drop and a sudden stop” kind of end?
1. The China syndrome

**OCEANO NOX**

By Rose de Sharon

**Disclaimer:** all recognizable characters belong to Mickey Mouse.

**Author's notes:**

- This is the sequel to _"A cry in the darkness"_. I had intended to write a Will-and-Elizabeth-after-ten-years story afterwards, but my muse whacked me over the head with this new plot and I know better than to contradict her (she can be very persuasive… *ouch*).

- The title is borrowed from a quote by Virgil: "_Et ruit oceano nox"_, which means _"The night soared from the ocean"_.

- English isn't my native language and all mistakes are mine.

- Adventure, angst, smarm and brotherly love: drink up, me hearties, yo ho!

**Feedback:** flames will be ignored.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The China syndrome**

It was night and the full moon had arisen above Tortuga in a display of glorious light. However, the satellite's crater-covered face looked like as if it was staring in stupefaction at the display below: the Island of Tortuga was in a great state of rioting. Pistols were fired in the air or at people, a tavern was burning down, merry jigs were played, barrels of rum had been smashed open and the liquid was flowing freely down the muddy streets. Everybody was abominably drunk: the men, the women, even the pigs after they had lapped at the rum spilled in the mud, and nobody gave a damn about it. The philosophy prevailing in this scrap of land was to spend money, drink and carouse with the ladies as if there was no tomorrow.

However, these people were more excited than usual – if possible – because of the upcoming _"Grand Boucan"_, the annual feast where the worst rogues of the Caribbean - pirates, buccaneers, smugglers, crooks, escapees – would drop anchor in Tortuga's Goats' Bay, eat smoked meat and plan their strikes against vessels loaded with gold or merchandises from the Americas. For gentlemen of fortune, it was also the yearly opportunity to end past grudges with treaties or alliances, even thought it would mostly end in betrayals and some more accounts to settle. However, no pirate worth his salt would miss _"Grand Boucan"_ for all the treasures in the world, meaning a lot of good business for the Tortuga inhabitants. It explained why they were celebrating, a bit too early but with a lot of enthusiasm, the impending arrival of their best customers.

The insulars were so busy drinking and fighting that no one noticed a Dutch fluyt which had been discreetly brought to near the coast of Tortuga. Unlike the other ships secured in the harbor, this one didn't come to offer its crew a rout of drunken debauchery. Nine years ago, this ship had been commanded by a creature whose name would strike terror in every seaman's heart. But after a battle of epic grandeur involving the Brethren Court, the East India Trading Company fleet and a maelstrom, it had acquired a new leader who had been working very hard ever since to right the past foul actions of its former captain.

It was _Flying Dutchman_, commanded by William Turner the Second. Tragic events during the maelstrom had forced him to acquire the captaincy of the ghost ship, which included a ten-year-old supernatural duty of ferrying souls of people who had died at sea to the Other Side. It had been a terrible twist of fate for the young man, since this uncompromising duty had separated him from his wife, Elizabeth Swann. Will couldn't step foot on land for the duration of his duty and Elizabeth, as a mortal, wasn't allowed to climb aboard the _Dutchman_. Only the promise of being freed after ten years by his wife's faithfulness had helped Captain Turner to remain strong and caring during his long absence. He ferried souls to the Other Side with an endless altruism and over the years, rumors had been spreading amongst the Seven Seas about _"An angel piloting the ghost vessel"_.

But the _Flying Dutchman_ wasn't approaching the coasts of Tortuga to provide transportation for dead people. This island happened to be the home of Joshammee Gibbs, ex-First Mate of Captain Jack Sparrow, the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean Sea. Gibbs had given up on piracy for settling down in Tortuga, but he hadn't forgotten his comrades-in-arms. After the young Turner couple had been separated, Gibbs had stepped up and offered to become their mailman.

Elizabeth was living on Shipwreck Island, raising their son William Turner III and managing an import-export business. She had renewed with her identity as the daughter of Weathersby Swann, late governor of Port-Royal, to claim her inheritance. It had had brought Elizabeth a nice amount of money, a much-needed capital to start her business but it had also destroyed her chances to approach Tortuga, since spies could report her to the authorities. The daughter of a former governor could hardly explain why she would visit an island reputed for being a shelter for pirates!

To avoid embarrassing questions, Elizabeth entrusted Gibbs with letters and packages for her beloved husband, since the old man visited Shipwreck Island once a mouth to buy supplies. Then Gibbs would leave the lot in a shallow cavern located in a small, quiet creek in Tortuga, knowing Will would come regularly to pick up his mail. This creek was ignored by the insulars – probably because there were no rum distilleries in that place - and it suited the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ perfectly.

Will had sent one of his men, Rudy Thompson, in a longboat to retrieve his letters and he was waiting impatiently for his return. Since his departure, Elizabeth had penned him hundreds of love-filled letters and he had treasured every one of them, locked up in a drawer inside his cabin. Two years ago, their son William III (nicknamed "Will-Trey") had started to write to his Daddy and the boy's clumsy handwriting, so touching and sincere, had brought much joy to the young commander, renewing his hopes for a future where they would be reunited to live happily ever after.

A hand gently brushed his arm, and Will turned about to see his father standing next to him with a kind smile on his lips. "Bootstrap" Bill Turner, ex-pirate, ex-slave and First Mate of the _Flying Dutchman_, was a towering man with enough strength in his body to crush an anvil between his bare hands, and yet his blue eyes betrayed his good nature. As a First Mate, Bill had been a tremendous help for the young man; but it had been nothing compared to the indefectible love the elder Turner gave to his son, making up for the long years where he had been absent from Will's life.

"Worry not, son. Thompson will be here soon,' said Bill with a low voice. On deck the Turners had to respect etiquette and address each other by _"Captain" and "Mister"_, but every time they were out of earshot they would use more familiar and affectionate names.

"I know, Papa," answered Will out of the side of his mouth. "It is just… This is our ninth anniversary and I can't wait to read Elizabeth's and Will-Trey's letters. One more year, Papa, and I will be free. Free! I will be finally allowed to step foot on land and hug them. God, this very thought is enough to make me shout in joy. It brings me so much hope, just like when I watch the sun appearing from out of a thick fog."

Bootstrap Bill glanced at his son and pride blossomed inside the old man's heart. Will truly looked magnificent under the moon glow: the silvery light enhanced his handsome features – high cheekbones, chocolate-brown eyes, straight nose, firmly-shaped jaw and strong chin – while his dark locks of hair floated gently in the night's breeze, escaping from a deep green bandana tied around his head. The front of his puffy-sleeved white shirt was opened, partially revealing tanned skin and a muscled chest. The tall young Captain was leaning on the hull's rail, clasping his hands as if he were praying and his whole frame was glowing from an inner light which appeared every time Will felt hopeful.

Bill wondered for the millionth time how he, of all people, had been granted the privilege to sire a man who had the face and the soul of an angel. Will was nigh on thirty-one but his boyish good looks had remained intact, untainted by time or duty, and his father thanked the Heavens day and night for this miracle.

"_People keep on saying he's the spitting image of me," _thought the elder Turner. _"But he has inherited from Mary his heart and his brains, making him a man who is a thousand times better than plain ol' Bill, thanks goodness!"_

But the _Dutchman_'s First Mate grimaced unconsciously when he saw the jagged red scar Will sported on his left breast. His adored son had been fatally injured during the maelstrom battle by Davy Jones, monster and commander of the _Flying Dutchman_ then, and the only way to save the young man had been to make him the new immortal Master of the Seas. To acquire this supernatural status, it had required to carve Will's heart out and lock it in the Dead Man's Chest. Only Bill had the courage to do this terrible operation but, even though it had granted his son a second chance in life, he felt like crying every time he saw this painful souvenir.

"_To think he could have been happy with his family for nine years now if I hadn't had the stupid idea to go pirating… Fights, pillaging, narrow escapes, all this to end up as a slave aboard the _Dutchman_… my brilliant illegal career ending twice-cursed and covered with shells. But I couldn't be smart enough to shelter my son from this mess; no, I had to put him right in the middle of danger, and he almost died because of it… first by Davy Jones, and then by that bastard Red Hand Pete!"_

"Papa?"

Will's soft voice shook the former pirate from out of his reverie and he feigned to look at Tortuga's shores, but the young Turner wasn't fooled. After years of sailing together, Will could read his father like in a book and he knew Bill had been silently blaming himself again for what had happened in the past. Knowing it would be useless to argue, Will simply smiled at the older man. Bill's blue eyes shone in joy at this sight and he grabbed at his son's hand to give it a reassuring shake.

Will answered with a firm pressure, and then he released his father's fingers before anyone from the crew would notice the gesture. Even though the Turners sometimes hugged each other on deck, Bootstrap was still self-conscious about being openly affectionate in front of the men.

"Thompson's coming back, Mister Turner", said Will suddenly out loud.

Bill looked up and the silhouette of a blond-haired man in a longboat appeared against the illuminated shores of Tortuga. Thompson was rowing back to the _Flying Dutchman_ after having picked up a bundle hidden in Gibbs' cavern and the sailor seemed in a hurry to return, since he knew his Captain would be overjoyed to receive some news from his family. For the _Dutchman_'s crewmembers, Will was nothing less but a hero and they were entirely devoted to the young man after his deeds had freed them from Davy Jones. They would climb a greased ladder straight to the moon if their commander ever asked them to do so!

"That he is, Captain, and it seems he has completed his mission!" said Bill, chuckling lightly at the sight of Thompson's enthusiasm.

The sailor quickly reached the ghost ship and he climbed onboard with the help of a roped ladder, while his comrades hauled the longboat back on its supports. He carried over his shoulder a heavy-looking box, which had been wrapped in oiled cloth to avoid deterioration from sea water and secured by several lengths of string. The name "WILL", written across a heart, had been penned at the top of the package.

Thompson handed out the precious item to his commander, who received it with a grateful sigh: news from his family, at least!

"Thank you very much, Mister Thompson."

"At yur service, Cap'tain," answered the blond sailor, a bit shyly. "Can I do sumthink else fer yu?"

Bootstrap Bill couldn't help but feel prideful again after hearing those words: a few years ago, Thompson had been an unrepentant boozer who didn't give a damn if Davy Jones' devilish oath was turning him into a hideous freak of Nature as long as he had enough rum to drink. And now, there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for his young Captain!

"No thank you, Mister Thompson, you can go below deck and rest. We are leaving these waters, for Tortuga is a much too noisy place. Mister Turner, can you give the order to ready the ship?"

Only silence followed Will's question, and the young man turned around to see his First Mate standing still on the upper deck, staring at the distant rioting island. It looked like his father was reminiscing about his past as a pirate, when he visited Tortuga to spend some illegally-earned coins while Captain Jack Sparrow was thinking about another clever plan to rob more riches, but Will quickly dismissed the idea. Bootstrap Bill didn't have good memories of his pirating days and besides, he was never distracted from his unique goal in life – namely looking after his son.

"Mister Turner?" asked Will, a bit louder this time.

"Hunh? Oh! Er, I'm sorry, so… I mean, I'm sorry Captain, but somebody is coming!" answered the elder Turner.

Will looked up at the direction showed by his father's pointing finger, and indeed there was a small dinghy floating on the calm waters, obviously heading for the ghost ship. That was quite odd, since the _Flying Dutchman_ wasn't the kind of vessel mortals would approach willingly. Even if Will's good influence had partially restored its reputation, the _Dutchman_ was still a soul-ferry ship dealing with loss and sadness, things that people would rather avoid at all costs.

"You are right, Mister Turner. It seems we have a visitor!"

"But who would come to see us? And how in the world did that person know we would cruise near Tortuga tonight?"

Will set his package down on the main deck's planks while schooling his face to hide his deception; it seems he wouldn't read the missives of his dear family for the time being. Then he stood up and approached the rail to take a better look at the approaching dinghy. He sensed a movement behind him and he knew Bill had stepped closer with the idea to shield his son from any danger that could come out of the tiny boat.

"_My __lovable Papa,"_ thought Will with affection, and then he turned his attention to the matter at hand. The dinghy was of a very common design: dark hull, a unique dirty white sail supported by a little mast, a narrow bench at the stern and another one at the bow. A man of small stature, clad in dark clothes, was holding the rudder with a great aplomb, as if sailing towards a ghost ship was the most natural thing in the world.

"Can you make out who is it, Mister Turner?" asked Will.

"I'm not sure, Captain. This cockleshell is quite low on the water and its pilot is hidden by the sail. But still, I cannot shake the feeling that I saw him before…"

Within minutes, the dinghy had reached the _Flying Dutchman_ and Will was getting more puzzled by the minute. Usually, small boats would signal their presence by shouting _"Ship ahoy!"_ to avoid being involuntarily crushed by much-bigger ships, but the strange pilot didn't seemed to be concerned about collision risks. As soon as the dinghy was positioned next to the fluyt's starboard side, its pilot moved from behind its sail and deftly tied a rope at the base of Thompson's ladder to secure his boat to the _Dutchman_. Then, he calmly looked up at the incredulous faces of the crewmembers, who were watching him from the main deck, until his almond-shaped eyes locked on the young Captain.

Will was as astonished as his men for the stranger's calm attitude, while being so close to a notorious ghost ship! But his surprise increased even more after the Asian stood up on his tiny boat… and bowed at him!

"Shiver me timbers!"

"Ya know dis guy, Mister Turner?" asked Joel McCarthy the carpenter, who was scratching his head in puzzlement.

The First Mate bent over the _Dutchman_'s rail to get a better look, but he was already sure of the visitor's identity. Oh yes, he certainly recognized the stature, those features, the bald head which gleamed like a polished ball under the moonlight. A few years ago, Bill had led a desperate search-and-rescue mission and the stranger had been an unexpected, but not unwelcome, ally…

"Mister Wang Tao? How pleasant!" exclaimed Bootstrap Bill.

"Greetings, Honorable Lord First Officer of the Soul Vessel," answered in perfect English the Chinaman while addressing to the elder Turner. "I am grateful for the favor you grant me by remembering my name in spite of the long time which has passed since we have last seen each other. I give thanks to Cai Sheng, God of fortune, to have directed my modest person to your ship of a prideful reputation."

Will looked at his father and then at the visitor, back and forth. The young Turner had never met Wang Tao face-to-face but that name was familiar. Bill had told him all about how and when this Chinaman had interfered in the past.

"Mister Turner, is this man the same Wang Tao who has…?"

"Aye, Captain. He's one of the guys who have participated in the action of rescuing you from Red Hand Pete."

Bill's blue eyes shone again, but this time in anger. The recollection of Will's kidnapping was still a painful souvenir, even though four years had passed since this tragic event. Red Hand Pete, a megalomaniac pirate, had decided to become the new immortal Master of the Seas so he would be able to pillage with unlimited opportunity. To reach his goal, he had abducted and tortured Will to make the young man confess the location of the Dead Man's Chest containing his beating heart. A desperate Bootstrap had begged for Captain Jack Sparrow's assistance and the cunning rascal had succeeded in saving Will from Red Hand Pete's clutches with the invaluable help of Ammand the Corsair… and a stowaway named Wang Tao.

"You told me he had a family matter to settle with Shiao Long, Red Hand Pete's torturer," said Will, his handsome features hardening while remembering his captivity aboard _The Conqueror_, Red Hand Pete's ship.

"That's right, Captain. Mister Wang Tao had been ordered by his tribe's elders to deal with his renegade cousin; that was the reason why he asked Jack, Ammand and I permission to join us since we had a common enemy. Long got pulverized by a cannonball and after the battle Mister Wang Tao left with Jack aboard his dinghy, the _Sparrow Hawk_."

Will looked at the visitor again, eager to see the face of the spy/executioner who had fought alongside his father against Red Hand Pete. Grievously wounded by Long's torture devices, the young man had been barely conscious during his rescue and he never had the opportunity to show his gratitude towards those who had retrieved him from the _Conqueror_'s bowels; apart from his father and Jack.

Wang Tao bowed at the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and this time, it was in a more formal and reverent manner. Then, the Chinaman spoke in calm tones:

"Greetings, Most Honorable Lord Master of the Soul Vessel, please allow me to present my insignificant person: my name is Wang Tao of the Red Dragon Clan. Your reputation as a just and fair Soul Guide precedes you, and I daresay it has even reached my homeland in China. Sailors of my humble province have talked many times about your kind actions towards the ghosts of the unfortunates who had disappeared within the depths of the ocean, explaining your goodness by your status as the protégé of Mazu, the Sea Goddess. But according to some other seamen, you are in truth the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor, Monarch of all deities in Heaven, who has entrusted you with the mission to bring consolation and hope on our world's salty waters. Your very presence humbles me, Most Honorable Lord Master of the Soul Vessel, and I regret the lack of space aboard my ridiculous boat prevents me from prostrating before you, as custom requires."

Will was flabbergasted by Wang Tao's declaration; even after acquiring an immortal status since the maelstrom battle, he has never considered himself as a noble, a lord or the protégé of a deity, no matter how many times Bill had told him about Calypso's intervention during the fight with Red Hand Pete. And he certainly didn't want anyone to kneel before him! The young man had a quiet, modest nature and he would never repudiate his humble origins, so he was embarrassed by the Chinese's flowery phrases. At the same moment, Bootstrap Bill whispered in his ear:

"Don't worry, son. It is only his way of talking."

Will nodded, silently thanking his lucky stars for his father's steadfast presence at his side, and then he looked down as Wang Tao spoke again:

"I have the privilege to belong to one of the most powerful pirate families of China and, even thought I am unworthy of such a favor, my tribe's elders have entrusted me two years ago with the mission to search for lucrative activities in the Caribbean Sea. To accomplish this goal, I have approached a local man showing exceptional talent to acquire well-guarded riches and to speak using finely-chosen words. This man has accepted my contemptible offer for a partnership and since, we have succeeded in gaining a noticeable amount of coins. My admirable associate also happens to be a mutual acquaintance of ours…"

Will's eyes widened at the visitor's words. Surely Wang Tao didn't mean…?

"Most Honorable Lord Master of the Soul Vessel, my deepest wish is that you will forgive my incredible audaciousness for approaching your splendid ship. Unfortunately, terrible and recent events have reduced me to the role of a bird of ill omen requesting an immediate audience with you aboard my miserable boat. It is a matter of extreme urgency since I bear bad news about Lord Captain Jack Sparrow, undisputable leader of the proud vessel _The Black Pearl II_."

TBC…


	2. Stormcrow

**Disclaimer**: the same as chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Fan: thank you very much for pointing out the mistake.

- Wang Tao's proverb comes from Wikiquote.

- To Smithy: Hi there! Nice to hear from you! I hope you'll like this new chapter.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2: Stormcrow**

Will felt as if a block of ice had taken place inside his chest, at the same place where his physical heart used to beat.

Jack Sparrow was in peril? It wasn't surprising by itself, since "trouble" was Jack's unofficial middle name. But his situation must have been dire for Wang Tao to seek out the _Flying Dutchman_, famous ghost ship and soul-ferry, in the middle of the night. Where was Jack? What had happened? Was he betrayed once again by his crew? Or by another traitorous First Mate, like it has been the case with Hector Barbossa? Poor Jack never had any luck in picking up the right First Mate and it had twice cost him his vessel.

Will didn't hesitate for a second: "You are in command of the ship, Mister Turner. I'm going down to Mister Wang Tao's boat to hear what he has to say."

"But, W… I mean, Captain, you don't want me to go with you?" asked the tall man. "I'd rather… I'd like to come with you in the dinghy, if you don't mind, that is."

In spite of the distressing announcement, the younger Turner couldn't help but chuckle slightly. His shadow-like father wanted to accompany him even while going on a tiny dinghy! But he also knew the reasons of that over-protectiveness: Red Hand Pete had brutally kidnapped Will after convincing him to come aboard _The Conqueror_ by treachery, and Bill still hadn't recovered from the fright and the horror he had felt during the abduction.

However, this time, it wasn't a case of being lured to go on a brig after hearing the cries of a dying boy's soul. Wang Tao had been an ally in the past and his boat was far too modest to conceal a trap.

"This dinghy can accept only two passengers, Mister Turner… and I know you will be on the alert. There is no other person in the world that I could trust more to be my backup."

Bill's blue eyes shone in pleasure from the compliment. Will smiled at his father and this time it was the _"Special Smile"_, the one full of tenderness reserved exclusively to Bill, and each time it would soothe the older man's worries and regrets. Then Will closed his eyes and, in a flash, he disappeared from the _Flying Dutchman_'s main deck to reappear immediately on the bench at the bow of Wang Tao's dinghy.

Bootstrap Bill and his shipmates weren't surprised by this prodigy: the _Dutchman_'s Captain was gifted with the ability to "transport" himself on any vessel in a snap, a useful talent to search flotsams or even sunken ships for trapped souls. During Davy Jones' tyranny, his crewmembers had been granted the same power to attack innocent ships and slaughter their sailors, but they couldn't do it any longer after the monster had been defeated, lost forever in the depths of a whirlpool.

Wang Tao almost jumped out of his skin after Will had "materialized" so suddenly in front of him! The Chinese obviously hadn't been aware of the young man's special talent and the stupefied look on his face would have been comical if not for the fact he was bringing bad news about Jack.

"Greetings, Mister Wang Tao," said Will, calmly sitting on the narrow bench. "My father has told me about your participation in rescuing me from Red Hand Pete, and I'd like to thank you for your help. I am indebted to you for the fight you put up with your cousin, Shiao Long."

Wang Tao seems too stunned to answer and he remained silent for a moment, unable to detach his gaze from the beautiful Captain who had appeared aboard his dinghy like a ghost. Finally, he regained the use of his tongue at the costs of an enormous effort.

"_Lìng rén jingyà de!_ (Amazing)… Ahem! Please forgive my imbecilic exclamation, Most Honored Master of the Soul Vessel. As the proverb says, _"Like the Eight Immortals crossing the sea, each one displays his or her special feats"_. And, at the risk of being called an impertinent, I daresay you owe me absolutely nothing about my past and pitiful participation. It is already above my condition to be granted this immediate audience, consequently it is my miserable person who indebted to you, the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor. You have already fulfilled my most extravagant hopes by speaking directly to me, and I give thanks to your extraordinary generosity."

Wang Tao bowed again but even though if the Chinese had his own ways of talking, Will was still feeling embarrassed by those words of praise. He had inherited of his father's modest nature and he wasn't used to receive so many compliments in such a short length of time. He cleared his throat before asking:

"Mister Wang Tao, could you please tell me the news about Jack?"

"At once, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, and please forgive me for making you wait. Like I've said, I had the pleasure to meet Lord Captain Sparrow during his expedition against the arrogant would-be pirate with the red hand. Lord Captain Sparrow granted me the favor to join the fight, ending in the exhilarating annihilation of your foes. After this memorable battle, I returned to China to deliver the proof of my cousin's demise. My experience in the Caribbean Sea has convinced my tribe's elders to send me in this area again, this time to search for enriching businesses. That was how I associated myself with Lord Captain Sparrow, who has decided to extend his activities to the retrieving of valuables left ownerless after Nature's Forces have destroyed their carriers."

"_That incorrigible Jack has become a treasure-hunter,"_ thought Will, and then he said: "You work in Jack's crew as his spy."

"That is correct, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel. I can be pretentious enough to say my years of executing missions for the Red Dragon Clan has trained me well in the field of discretion and efficiency. My role was to gather information in the best taverns of the Caribbean to learn the names of sunken ships, the nature of their cargos and their approximate locations. Then, after hearing my scraps of reports, Lord Captain Sparrow would decide of our route and we would sail aboard _The Black Pearl II_ to find wreckages, helped by his magical compass."

Will glanced briefly in the direction of the _Dutchman_'s main deck; as predicted, Bootstrap Bill was leaning heavily on the ship's rail - at the risk of falling in the water from the pitching and rolling - but he obviously didn't want to miss a word of the conversation his son was having with Wang Tao.

"In two years we have amassed quite a nice stock of riches while avoiding authorities' representative and their pointless questions. The amount was getting to the point that every member of our team could retire from the working life to spend the rest of his natural days without a care or a worry in the world. But alas, it was not to happen. Lord Captain Sparrow dropped the anchor in a remote creek nearby Port Royal and sent me to town, with the mission to find information about a Spanish galleon full of gold which has sunk after being the victim of an unexpected hurricane."

The Chinese bowed his head, but this time it wasn't to show respect.

"My small person has to confess to a great shame, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, and I cannot hope you will ever forgive my formidable stupidity. During my mission at Port Royal, the incongruous idea of buying a new outfit came to my mind. So I decided to make this purchase in a shop owned by one of my compatriots; his name is Huang Ming and he is a very talented tailor – in fact, most of the Port Royal noblemen entrust him with the sewing of their garments. Blinded by the joy of acquiring new clothes cut in the fashion of my dear country, I have completely overlooked the fact that this town is full of spies, eager to receive monetary compensations for fresh news about pirates. After making my buy, I went to a local tavern to find information about the Spanish galleon but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Finally, I gave up and ran back to the creek in the middle of the night… just in time to see that Royal Marines had seized the _Black Pearl II_. The whole crew was in chains and the soldiers were taking their prisoners to Port Royal, paying no heed to Lord Captain Sparrow's protests."

"But how could you be responsible for Jack's arrest?" asked Will.

"Apparently, somebody has spotted me strolling in Port Royal's streets and reported my presence to the authorities. My lack of stealth and my indiscreet purchase have lead to a major catastrophe. I have let myself be recognized, and that's unforgivable for a spy!" added Wang Tao bitterly.

"How did you avoid capture?"

"While the Royal Marines were taking away Lord Captain Sparrow and his men, I remained in the shadows provided by the luxuriant vegetation of the jungle, mortified by shame. In spite of my clumsiness, I have been able to pick some interesting information by overhearing a conversation between a Royal Marine officer and a mysterious man. The officer's name was Commander Chambers, and he was boasting about the easy capture of the _Black Pearl II_ and disgustingly praising himself for this exploit; however, the other man told him in no uncertain terms that Chambers couldn't catch a fly by himself, and the arrest of Lord Captain Sparrow was entirely _**his**_ doing."

"Did you manage to know who this mysterious man is?" asked Will.

"Alas, my answer is of negative nature. The man had his back on me and Commander Chambers addressed him as "Milord" only. For all I could see, he was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed like a gentleman with a cutaway tailored coat, dark breeches and buckle-fastened shoes. He had a wig on his head, and also a tricorne hat. By the sound of his voice, he was probably in his mid-fifties. And judging from his brusque manners, he was certainly the mastermind behind the capture of Lord Captain Sparrow!"

Will pondered after hearing those words; apparently, there was a dangerous man who was after his friend's blood. Jack didn't lack of enemies from both sides of the law, a consequence of his illegal career; and yet, Will couldn't shake the feeling that this time it wasn't the usual case of a local lawman trying to get his hands on the most famous blabbermouth pirate of the Caribbean.

"After the Royal Marines left for Port Royal with the prisoners, I tried to follow Commander Chambers and his patron but they climbed inside a coach and left the scene. Trailing the soldiers would have been too dangerous since they had guns and hunting dogs to assure their security. The only thing left for me was to go back to Port Royal on my own. At dawn, I finally reached the city's limits. Since hiding in Huang Ming's shop would have proven to be too dangerous, I remained in the harbor. There, I overheard a group of sailors laughing about Lord Captain Sparrow and his crew being locked up in Port Royal's prison, and how they would soon be tried and probably hanged. Sensing I couldn't do anything on my own, I "borrowed" a dinghy and sailed for Tortuga in the hopes to find allies there. But disappointment greeted me: the locals were either too indifferent or too inebriated to pay any attention to my pleas. Finally, a wise man came up to me with a solution. His name was Joshammee Gibbs, former First Officer of Lord Captain Sparrow."

"Gibbs!" exclaimed Will.

"Venerable Joshammee Gibbs told me he was too old to take part in an adventure, and besides time was running out; he didn't have the means to buy a ship, weapons and to recruit a crew to rescue Lord Captain Sparrow," said Wang Tao. "However, he knew a man who could provide instant and magical help… namely you, Most Honored Master of the Soul Vessel. By an extraordinary coincidence, Venerable Joshammee Gibbs had just left a package nearby and he told me you would pick it up soon. So I waited for your arrival for two days and a night in my dinghy. I spotted your sailor coming out of the creek in a longboat and I merely followed him until reaching your prodigious ship."

The Chinaman fell silent, but Will's mind was in turmoil. Jack was in danger and his first impulse was to rush at his rescue, but the harsh reality of his own situation was dampening on this generous thought. Jack and his crew were locked up within the walls of Port Royal's prison. How could he find a way to help the bird-named Captain, since Will couldn't step foot on land for another year?

The Captain of the ghost ship knew from personal experience that the jail had been built on solid ground, at a good distance from the sea. A lifetime ago, a naïve blacksmith named Turner had forged the cells' iron bars with his own hands; but he would never have believed he would see first a friend, then the girl of his dreams behind those same bars. Jack and Elizabeth had been held prisoners with the help of his own craftsmanship, and Will had violently resented his work afterwards.

"Did anyone else escape the capture, Mister Wang Tao?" asked the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ hopefully. "I mean, if you have avoided being caught, maybe there is a chance that some of Jack's men have fled the _Black Pearl II_ as well…"

"I am indeed a bird of bad omen, Most Honored Master of the Soul Vessel, but honesty prevents me from saying otherwise than this: all the men have been captured. I looked attentively at the line of prisoners and no one has been spared the humiliation of being chained and dragged to Port-Royal by Commander Chambers. Amongst the trapped men were Little Big Man, Silent One, the odd couple and the pair of butterfingers."

Will was devastated by this last piece of news; things were turning very bad, indeed. Little Big Man and Silent One were probably Marty and Cotton, the only sailors who had shown true loyalty to Jack. The "odd couple' could only be Pintel and Ragetti, argument-prone pirates, and the butterfingers were Murtogg and Mullroy, ex-Royal Marines and absolute idiots. And they had been caught along with their Captain! Wang Tao was right, chances of finding allies were nil. Will remembered the time he had saved Jack from the gallows in Port Royal, years ago; before dashing to his friend's rescue, he had made sure beforehand that the _Black Pearl_, with Gibbs in command, would be ready to pick up Jack after the silver-tongued pirate would jump from the city's cliffs after Will had freed him from his bounds.

Captain Turner remained silent for a long moment. For the life of him he couldn't figure out a way to save Jack and his men, who were on land and it was impossible for him to go there. Bill and the other crewmembers could go ashore, but Will couldn't order them to participate in an attack. They were mortals so they could get hurt, or innocent bystanders could be caught in the crossfire and that very idea was revolting to the young man's principles. Only William could participate in a fight without worrying about getting killed… as long as he remained on the sea.

So what was there left? Should he order his helmsman to head for Port Royal, only to watch Jack's hanging through the lens of his telescope? The younger Turner had never been for remaining a passive witness in front of a blatant injustice. Jack Sparrow was a good man under his carapace forged with narcissism, constant drunkenness and fine words. Will owned him his life more times than he dared count and he would never forget Jack helping him stab Davy Jones' heart, or saving him from Red Hand Pete. No, Will would never allow any petty, self-righteous marine officer to hang Captain Jack Sparrow. Neither Commander Chambers nor the mysterious gentleman would tie a noose around the neck of his brother in all but blood. Jack _**had**_ to be saved, as well as his bunch of ragtag rascals.

But how?

Will growled unconsciously and his chocolate-brown eyes hardened in anger, the frustration of Samson under his chains. He knew it was pointless to resent his supernatural status, but where was the good in being the empowered Master of the Seas for ten years if he couldn't help those he loved?

A noise was hear upwards, and Will raised his head to see some of his crewmembers struggling to prevent a heavy Bootstrap Bill from falling overboard. Apparently, his father had lost his equilibrium while listening to his exchange with the Chinaman.

"Mister Turner, are you all right?"

"Oops! Er, yes Sir. I bent forwards too much and I lost my footing. Sorry, Captain."

"I gather you've heard Mister Wang Tao's story, then, haven't you?"

"So I did, Captain, loud and clear. What happened to Jack is downright awful. What can we do to help, Sir?"

"_What can we do, indeed,"_ thought Will with great sadness. _"Jack is in jail, waiting to be hanged and there is nothing I can do to prevent it. I can't go on land and I can't send my father or my men to fight in my stead. There is too little time to ask for the help of another pirate captain, like Jack did when he recruited Ammand the Corsair to save me from Red Hand Pete. The _Flying Dutchman_ could drop the anchor in Port Royal's harbor and its apparition could create a panic, but that would hardly do a lot of good! The soldiers guarding the port would recover quickly and open fire, leaving us with too little time to invade the prison."_

Will sighed, and then he met the gaze of the oriental.

"Can you follow the _Flying Dutchman_ with your dinghy, Mister Wang Tao? We will need to trace a fast route."

"Certainly, Most Honored Master of the Soul Vessel! I am overjoyed by your resolution to save Lord Captain Sparrow from a dreadful fate. He has proven to be an enriching business associate and I would hate to see our partnership ending prematurely in a… well, in "a sudden drop and a sudden stop" way."

Will closed his eyes and he immediately reappeared on the _Dutchman_'s main deck. Bootstrap Bill discreetly brushed his hand on his son's arm to make sure Will was truly onboard again, and then he asked out loud:

"Orders, Sir?"

"Change of course, Mister Turner. Head for Jamaica, we're going to Port Royal."

Bill barked the necessary instructions and the _Dutchman_'s sailors ran to their respective posts. Below, Wang Tao untied his dinghy from the rope ladder. He would sail alongside the ghost ship while keeping a safe distance, in order to avoid being capsized by the backwash created by the vessel's wake.

Will looked at his men, and sighed again: their number had diminished greatly those past few years. The _Dutchman_'s sailors had been press-ganged into service by Davy Jones' blackmail, turning them into murdering freaks. After the maelstrom battle, they had regained their pure human forms and they all had accepted to obey their new Captain since Will represented hope and forgiveness. But unlike his predecessor, the younger Turner didn't force his men to remain aboard the _Dutchman_'s indefinitely; whenever a sailor would think he had reached redemption for his past actions, he would ask Will for his freedom and it would be granted at once. So far, thirty-two sailors had left and the ghost ship was currently sailing with a skeleton crew of twelve men.

"What do you intend to do, son?"

"I truly don't know for the moment, Papa. Apparently, the only thing left to do is to stay nearby Port Royal, and then reap Jack's soul after his body has been thrown to the sea since outlaws are not allowed a grave in the city's cemetery. I cannot step foot on land and I can't send you and the others to invade Port Royal's jail. The stakes are too high and it would be too dangerous."

Bootstrap Bill could see the anguish shining in Will's dark eyes, and it broke his heart. Knowing how much Captain Sparrow meant to his cherished son, the elder Turner said out loud: "If going ashore the only way to rescue Jack, son, I volunteer to lead a group to attack the prison!"

"No, Papa!" answered Will firmly. "I won't send you in the front lines. I'd hate myself for all eternity if anything ever happened to you. I love you so much…"

The young man suddenly quieted, but Bill felt a big lump of emotion blocking his throat. He had received many proofs of affection since the Turners had been reunited but this one would have made him cry if he hadn't been on deck, in front of his shipmates. William refused to compromise his father's safety, even if his friend was in mortal danger.

"Oh, my Little One…" whispered the broad-shouldered man.

"I want to save Jack, Papa, but it won't be at the cost of your life or anybody else's for that matter. The _Flying Dutchman_ is a soul-ferry and not a battleship. After the maelstrom, I swore to myself this vessel would never shoot a cannonball again and I intend to keep my oath. There must be a way to retrieve Jack without firing a single shot – just like he did when he sacked Nassau. We have a few days ahead of us; that's enough time to think like Jack and to make a plan. What reassures me is I know I can count on your support."

"I will follow you every step of the way, son. Whatever you want me to do, in broad daylight or by night, I will do it. And I love you very much, too."

The _Special Smile_ graced Will's lips again and his handsome face was aglow with renewed hope. Whatever may happen, his father was with him and it gave the young man a burst of confidence for his quest. Saving Jack from the gallows without stepping foot on land or opening fire would probably prove to be difficult, even impossible; but Will Turner wasn't the kind to surrender to fate without a fight, not as long as he had his devoted guardian angel at his side.

Bill smiled back, but his blue eyes were clouded with worry about Jack, his crew… and his William. What terrible dangers were waiting for them at Port Royal?

TBC…


	3. Behold the enemy

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- This chapter is dedicated to the MarsmallowWizardGhostCookie: happy birthday, Alice!

- To Fan: thank you very much for your message!

- To ArianneG: hi there! Will you please give me your email address?

- Chambers is inspired from a character of the movie _"Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's Ends" _but his personality is of my own creation.

- The _"santabárbara"_ (Saint Barbara in English) designs the powder magazine of a ship or fortress.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Behold the enemy**

Commander Bartholomew Chambers prided himself in being a courageous and loyal officer of His Royal Highness, the King of England.

However, as he was walking down the badly lit streets of Port Royal to reach the fashionable St. Paul's district, he couldn't help but being frightened. He didn't fear being the victim of an aggression by ruffians out for his golden insignias, or falling in a trap baited by a gorgeous-looking prostitute. He had a good sword at his hip, a loaded pistol hidden under his jacket and he avoided darkened alleys like the plague. He was an officer of the Royal Navy and the prestige of his uniform should be enough to earn the respect of anyone crossing his path.

Commander Chambers was on his way to a _rendezvous_, where he expected to receive an adequate reward for his cooperation in the capture of a pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow. But he couldn't find the courage to celebrate his success because his employer was a man who made him stand in fear.

Truth to be told, Chambers' entire career had been based on keeping an assured facade at all times. It had been convincing enough to fool his teachers at the Naval Academy, and then the different Captains he had served as a Sub-Lieutenant, Lieutenant and Lieutenant-Commander. He had reached the rank of Commander at the age of twenty-eight which high recommendations and his parents – a couple of old buzzards who had beaten the self-confidence out of him with a cane during his whole childhood – had finally been proud of him

Nine years ago, Chambers, then thirty, had been certain he would be granted a captaincy after his participation in a great military _coup_. The objective had been clear: total elimination of pirates gathered in the Caribbean Sea. It had looked so simple at the time, and completely risk-free.

And it had all gone to Hell.

_The maelstrom battle._

The Commander shuddered at the recollection and he almost slipped on the wet cobbles. Even nine years after the facts, he still couldn't remember this fight without feeling cold shivers all over his body. He had miraculously survived the battle, but the worse had been waiting for him back in Port Royal: suspicion, disgrace and defamation. But how could these people judge him? They hadn't been present on the _H.M.S. Endeavour_; they hadn't seen the horrible things he had witnessed!

"It hasn't been my fault," said Commander Chambers out loud. "I've done everything I could under the circumstances. I obeyed orders to the letter. No one has the right the blame me!"

This forceful declaration made very little impression on the passerby; some of them kept a cautious distance, thinking him a lunatic, but the others just showed perfect indifference. A rat squealed in fear and disappeared in the shadows of the street.

There had been a court martial in London, and Chambers had been thoroughly ridiculed by his embarrassing testimony that included monsters and maelstroms. He had kept his rank only because of his father's influence in high places. But the old man hadn't bothered to mask his pleasure when pouring his contempt upon his son in the privacy of the family manor. Chambers had been disinherited and his mother had refused to say good-bye to _"A spineless worm"_.

Chambers' future had looked grim, but the Navy had its own plans about this Commander and his fantastic tales: he had been sent back to Port Royal on a pen-pusher job. For the past nine years, he had done nothing but keeping accounts at Fort Charles and supervising the work of the drill sergeant who tyrannized the recruits – usually a bunch of scoundrels who had taken the King's shilling to avoid prison – until they knew how to stand, march and fire before sending them to the troublesome colonies of North America. This position was nothing but an insult and a reprimand, but what could Chambers do? If he resigned from the Navy, he would find himself penniless and thousands of leagues away from England. No civilian would offer him a job and he couldn't even dream of marrying a rich heiress.

And then, a few months ago, Chambers had met a man and he had truly thought his woes were over. But he never would have thought it would be so hard on his fragile nerves!

Finally, he reached his destination: a two-story grand mansion with a large garden, protected by high walls and a wrought iron gate. Some of the rooms had been lightened but the garden had been left unattended, giving an impression of wildness that clashed with the house's respectable-looking architecture. Chambers walked through the entrance gate, which had been left open, and then on the garden's uneven alley to reach the front door of the house. He knocked and a nervous butler answered:

"Y-Yes, Sir?"

"Commander Chambers. I have an appointment with…"

"H-His Lordship awaits you in his study, S-Sir. Please to enter, Sir."

Chambers stepped into an entry hall that had seen better times: there were white rectangular shapes on the walls, a testimony that paintings or framed engravings had been removed, or stolen. The tiled floor was dusty, and the carpet covering the spiral staircase was threadbare. The only things that looked new were the huge gilt-framed mirror and the candles placed on the big chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The butler took Chambers' hat and sword, handed them to a scared maid – a plump woman with deep lines on her face -, who put the belongings in a small cupboard by the front door. The Commander usually paid no attention to servants, but the couple seemed scared out of their minds and, knowing their master, he wouldn't think of blaming them for their skittishness.

"If Sir will come this way?" said the butler while motioning towards the stairs.

Chambers followed him up to the first floor, but he couldn't help but notice that a strong scent of dust and mildew floating in the air. Cobwebs appeared in every ceiling's corners and some of the windows had been hastily cleaned, leaving smudges on the glass panels. The silk wallpaper was maculated, and in some parts it was even peeling off from the walls.

It looked as if the house had fallen within the hands of a negligent owner – and Chambers knew it was the case. Years ago, this grand mansion had belonged to Governor Wetherby Swann, the late governor of Port Royal that every one remembered as a polite gentleman. After he had been "lost at sea", his only daughter had vanished, never to be seen again in Jamaica. There had been no one to claim the property and the habitants pretended Swann's spirit haunted it. The actual governor – an odious fellow named Laverty – had preferred to move into another house, located on the far side of the town. Consequently, Chambers' employer had bought the grand mansion for a song.

But obviously, the man was too busy with his schemes to spend time and money on repairs.

To hide his anxiety, Commander Chambers decided to make casual conversation with the butler. A poor audience, of course, but beggars couldn't be choosers, could they?

"What is your name?"

"H-H-Humphrey, Sir." stuttered the butler.

"And how many servants are at His Lordship's service, Humphrey?"

"O-O-Only my wife and I, S-Sir,'"

"Your wife? You mean the maid I have spotted downstairs?"

"That is c-correct, Sir. She does the c-c-cooking and she sees to the linen, and I d-do the cleaning."

"This is a big house for only one man to clean it, no?"

"Oh no, not at all, S-Sir!" exclaimed the butler. "I am q-quite capable to handle the work all by myself!"

Chambers was taken aback by the Humphrey's reaction, as if uttering a single complaint would make him the winner of a one-way ticket to the gallows! But he let the matter drop. After all, he had to gather his strength for his own rendezvous and a nervous servant couldn't distract him; he had more important things in mind.

The two men reached the first floor and stopped at the third door on the right. Humphrey knocked and a harsh _"Enter!"_ was heard from the other side of the wood. The butler jumped in fright, and then he opened to announce:

"Commander Chambers, your Lordship."

"Let him in and get your worthless carcass away from my sight, Humph!" barked the voice.

The butler bowed and edged aside, allowing Chambers to enter, and the officer stepped inside a room that was much better kept than the rest of the house. Logs were burning in the fireplace, a grandfather's clock was ticking in a corner, and a desk was covered with papers and maps. A giant map of the world was hanging on one wall, and nearby there was an iron safe mounted in cherry wood. The thick curtains have been drawn to block the view from the windows and Chambers started to feel sweaty from the room's temperature. But maybe it was because of its tenant?

"Get in and close the door," growled a man seated in a wing chair, facing the fireplace. Apparently, the Commander's employer wouldn't bother with getting up to acknowledge his visitor.

Chambers' cheeks turned purple in anger; he wasn't a servant like Humphrey, for God's sake, he was an officer of the Royal Navy! But, too afraid to displease his "host", he obeyed nonetheless and shut the door behind him.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, making Chambers feel more and more anxious. He knew this was deliberate to make him ill at ease and, damn it, it was working! Perspiration was running on his forehead and he could feel wet stains under his arms, maculating his ironed shirt under his officer's uniform.

"So, you came," said the man in the wing chair, staring at the fire and keeping his back on the visitor.

"_Finally! He has talked!"_ thought an elated Chambers.

"Yes, Milord. I have received your message and…"

"And you came at full speed like a dog expecting to receive a bone from its master, with your tail between your legs, as usual."

"Milord!"

"You dare to talk back to me? You seem to forget I am the one who call the shots in here!"

The grand mansion's owner jumped on his feet and looked at Chambers from top to bottom, like a wealthy customer evaluating a cheap statue in an antiques' shop. He was a towering man in his mid-fifties, dressed with an embroidered deep blue cutaway cloak over a waist-length satin waistcoat, ivory-colored stockings and black velvet breeches. Above his cravat made of Parisian white silk, his prominent chin would have looked funny if not for his mouth, perpetually frozen in a disdainful grimace. His plain lined features were rigid from barely-contained fury but his eyes were the worst: ice-blue, unblinking, expressionless, and Chambers remembered those eyes too well …

"You are my minion, Commander Chambers, and don't you dare forgetting it for an instant. Until our business is done, I call you by any kind of names I choose and you will do whatever I want you to do. Only I have the power to have your disastrous record destroyed and your reputation restored; you don't want to spoil your last chance to earn the captaincy you have been whining about for years, do you? So keep your indignation on a very short leash!"

Chambers gulped and made a grimace as if he had swallowed unsweetened lemonade, wishing he were anywhere else but in this grand mansion. Five minutes in the presence of its owner and he already wanted to turn tail and run. No wonders Humphrey and his wife were so nervous!

"Very well, Milord. I apologize for my outburst and I will obey to your orders."

"Good! Then maybe you will understand that our hunting job isn't finished, far from it."

This last sentence made Chambers jump in spite of his fear: what did his host meant?

"I don't understand, Milord. We have captured Captain Sparrow, his men and his ship without any casualties. We should celebrate our great success!"

"A HALF-SUCCESS!" roared the middle-aged man, banging his fist on a console supporting a small vase of flowers. The vase fell over and crashed on the tiled floor in an explosion of porcelain. Water spattered all over on the ivory stockings. "We may have captured the _Black Pearl II_, but we still have no clues about how to find the_ Flying Dutchman_!"

Chambers blanched at those words; a few months ago, his future partner-in-crime had seemed interested only in settling a personal account with Sparrow. He had never mentioned anything about the ghost ship!

"But, Milord! What on Earth do you want to do with the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"I want to hang its Captain alongside Sparrow's corpse, you mongrel! What do you think?"

"_I'm dealing with a __lunatic,"_ thought Chambers. _"An absolute lunatic, just like the other one!"_

"With all due respect, Milord, you are being unreasonable. It is impossible to capture the _Flying Dutchman_."

"Oh? And why, pray tell, you pusillanimous and poor example of a Royal Navy officer?"

"Because it's a ghost ship!" exclaimed Chambers, finally reaching his patience's limits. "And I saw through a telescope its Captain and crew, milord; they… they were so deformed, they barely looked human! They were covered with shells and other sea debris but they were ferocious and merciless, fighting like demons. Even a maelstrom hasn't been powerful enough to destroy the _Dutchman_. It's an invulnerable ship filled with monsters! How do you expect us to capture those hellish creatures?"

"Lord Beckett did find a way to control the _Flying Dutchman_!" yelled the master of the grand mansion while taking a crumpled letter from out of his cutaway cloak and brandishing it like a war hatchet. "Just before he departed for his mission against the Brethren Court's armada aboard the ship-of-the-line _H.M.S. Endeavour_, he wrote in this missive about his success in submitting Jones, the _Dutchman_'s Captain, and that he was forcing him to destroy pirate ships!"

"That may have been true, but the only ones who knew about Lord Beckett's hold on Jones were his clerk, Mercer, and the few Marines left aboard the _Dutchman_. None of them have returned from the ghost ship; Heavens knows what had happened to them!"

"What happened to them is quite obvious! Mercer and the soldiers failed at their duty and they let themselves being overpowered. You testified in London that the _Flying Dutchman _was attacking the_ Black Pearl_ minutes before the maelstrom, and then both ships got caught in a huge whirlpool. The darkened sky and the pouring rain made it impossible for you imbecile to see how the battle between these two ships was faring. After the tempest had calmed down, it appeared that only the _Pearl_ had survived…"

"… Until the _Flying Dutchman_ resurfaced…" completed Chambers.

"… And then, the _Black Pearl _and the_ Dutchman_ joined forces to catch the _Endeavour_ in a swift pincer movement and destroy it in a hail of cannonballs. The only logical explanation is that Captain Jones regained the command of his ship one way or another, and then allied himself with Sparrow to murder your rightful leader." finished the man bitterly.

The Commander was sweating profusely as despair and fear filled his being. His employer didn't ask him to come to the grand mansion to hand him out his reward. He could say good-bye to his Captain's insignias, if they had even existed in the first place.

"Milord, I can assure you…"

"YOU LEFT HIM THERE!" roared the gray-haired man while grabbing Chambers by the front of his uniform's jacket. "YOU RAN AWAY AND YOU LEFT LORD BECKETT ALONE ON THE _ENDEAVOUR_!"

"That's not true!" exclaimed the disgraced Commander, wetting his breeches in the panic. "I've told you that before, just like I've told the judges in London. Before we could realize what was happening, we were entrapped between the _Flying Dutchman _and the _Black Pearl_. I kept on asking Lord Beckett for orders, but he wouldn't answer! He was in shock, repeating: _"It's just good business…"_ all the time! And when the pirates opened fire, it was too late to organize a defense. I gave my subordinates the order to abandon ship but half the men were already killed or injured. I tried to grab Lord Beckett but he just descended the main deck's stairs, apparently oblivious of the cannonballs flying everywhere. I reached the ship's rail when the twin broadside guns fired at the_ Endeavour_'s_ santabárbara_, and the blast of the explosion made me fall into the water. I barely escaped with my life!"

The host's snarling face was very close to Chambers'. The Royal Navy officer thought for a moment the man was going to bite him like a rabid dog, but suddenly he was flung away and his bottom collided violently with the floor's hard stones. He would have protested against this blatant disregard of his uniform, but one look at his soiled white breeches made him change his mind. It was hard to keep a dignified facade when smelling like a privy!

Chambers got on his feet, and then he moved promptly to place the wing chair between him and the gray-haired man. It would hide the accident in his pants and also shield him from violent outbursts. He hastily mopped the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief before saying:

"Milord, all this is pointless. The _Flying Dutchman_ is out of our reach so instead of aiming for the moon, we should concentrate on more urgent matters – namely, the trial and hanging of Captain Sparrow and his men. Every citizen of Port Royal is talking about the capture and they expect a public execution in a few days. After those scoundrels' necks will be broken, we'll be heroes and Governor Laverty will grant us anything we want!"

"Don't count your chickens before they are hatched, Chambers! Sparrow isn't hanged yet."

This time, Chambers gasped in surprise.

"W-What do you mean, milord? He is locked up in the jail over Port Royal Bay; it's the strongest detention centre in Jamaica, he cannot escape!"

"I don't trust this prison or the mutts guarding it! In the past, Sparrow has managed to escape and he's likely to relapse. He isn't the kind to sit tight and wait until his appointment with the noose comes up. Besides, soldiers can be bribed or Sparrow can call for outside help. I want to make absolutely sure he won't escape his punishment, unlike the time he fooled the former Governor. But I know exactly what kind of cage would be strong enough to keep this peculiar bird under lock and key."

The disgraced Commander blinked incomprehensibly, as he couldn't understand why his host wanted to improve that which was already perfect. To his eyes, Port Royal's prison was secure enough to keep Sparrow in. The small-framed pirate captain couldn't be slim enough to pass through the bars of his cell!

"Milord…"

"Listen to me, Chambers. Tomorrow morning, you will gather your ragtag troops and you will get Sparrow and his men out of Port Royal prison to march them off to their new holding premises. It's a jail I have prepared especially for them, and for anyone who has ever associated with pirates."

"What? But… but I wasn't aware there was a new detention building in town. Where is it located?"

"I will tell you tomorrow morning!" snapped the older man. "I don't want any leaks until Sparrow and the others are locked up in the new place. I have hand-picked its guards and I can assure you they are far more suited for this role than the usual drunken scumbags that you try to pass as soldiers. Sparrow will remain in this new jail until he is hanged for the murder of Lord Beckett."

"What about his trial, Milord? His death warrant must be signed by a judge, and countersigned by the Governor. That's the law!"

"To Hell with the law! Sparrow doesn't deserve a trial, anyway. I have made the necessary arrangements with Governor Laverty. He will sign any document as long as he gets under-the-table payments, the greedy pig. However, I've just learnt that Judge Benedict Carr has a liking for young boys… His cooperation won't cost me a penny. And do you honestly think the citizens of this stinking town will ask questions about the civil rights of a bunch of pirates? The only thing they care about is the display of swaying corpses at the end of a rope!"

Chambers wiped the sweat from his brow again, not even trying to hide the movement this time. Things were getting out of control: in his obsession of revenge against Sparrow, his employer had decided to lock up the pirates in his private prison and to take the law within his own hands, while bribing the Governor and exert pressure on a judge. What would be next? Would he form his own militia, seize power in Jamaica and become the true authority behind the throne's representatives?

"Milord, I don't think…"

"That's right, Chambers: don't think, and content yourself with obeying. After Sparrow is hanged, I will take the necessary dispositions and you will get your promotion. And then, we will leave and search for the _Flying Dutchman_ until we bring Captain Jones back to Port Royal in chains, monster or not. I won't let the other killer of Lord Beckett roam freely on the oceans while his accomplice's tar-covered body is displayed for the public to see. I am not interested in a half-success so WE WILL FIND IT! I will spend every penny I have, I will put the Caribbean to fire and the sword, we will travel around the globe if needed but we will find the _Flying Dutchman_! Lord Beckett will be avenged, do you hear me?"

"But, Milord, the _Dutchman_ is a phantom vessel!"

"A phantom vessel that can shoot real cannonballs? You moron, it is made of solid wood just like any other ship, so it can be destroyed! If you had used your brains during the maelstrom battle instead of gawking around, you wouldn't have waited for orders to open fire on the _Dutchman_ and Lord Beckett would still be amongst us. As for the so-called monsters, it would have taken only a few inches of British steel to send them to the depths. But you got frightened like a cabin boy and ran away! Now get out of my house, clean your breeches and you'd better be bright and ready tomorrow morning when we transfer the prisoners. We will march at dawn!"

And with a dismissing gesture, the older man sank back in the wing chair, still clutching Lord Beckett's letter in his hand. A very dismayed Chambers retreated to the door like a kicked dog; but as he walked down the staircase, ignoring Humphrey's rounded eyes, he was seething with anger. The old bastard had humiliated him for the last time; Chambers would plunge his sword right into his belly, decapitate him and hang the head from one of his ship's yard-arms, he would, he would….

… _Rem__ain at his orders until Captain's insignias are sewed on his jacket's sleeves._

Chambers sighed heavily and he didn't even notice Mrs. Humphrey handing him his hat and his sword. Getting mad was useless; his employer had all the winning cards in hand for the moment and the disgraced Commander had learned long ago the virtues of patience. Things would be better after Sparrow's hanging: Chambers would get his deserved rank, a brand-new ship and if the revenge-obsessed man wanted to come along, so be it. Accidents happened frequently when sailing on the open sea, in the lines of a sudden wave sweeping everything on its path, or a mysterious disappearance in the middle of the night…

"_Like it happened with Swann,"_ thought Chambers, and that souvenir gave him shivers. He had accidentally witnessed Mercer, Lord Beckett's assistant, killing the debonair governor on the_ Endeavour_'s main deck and then throwing the body overboard while the sailors were sleeping below. Chambers hadn't uttered a word about this, too aware of Beckett's policy towards people outliving their usefulness. Later, during his court martial, he had been tempted to name the culprits responsible for Swann's murder but he had quickly renounced to this idea; he was already suspected of cowardice so it would have been pointless to tarnish the reputation of the "maelstrom martyr", as bigwigs in London called Lord Beckett.

Officially, Governor Swann had been "lost at sea" with many other men after the battle; retrospectively, keeping silence about this murder had been a wise move from Chambers. His employer wouldn't have appreciated accusations towards Lord Beckett…

The Commander exited the grand mansion, not even bothering to mask the accident in his pants. The night's shadows would be enough to cover this testimony of his nervousness until he reached Fort Charles… or so he hoped.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in the cells of Port Royal's prison…_

"**Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me! ****We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot…"**

"ENOUGH!" roared a pot-bellied red-coated marine named Tobias, banging his fist against the bars of a cell. "I don't want to hear this stupid song any longer!"

"Oh, pooh! You're no fun, Tubby Toby!"

The other prisoners laughed out loud at those words, disturbing the night's silence. Half-dozens of captives had been crammed into tiny dank cells, making it impossible for them to stand, sit or lay down without bumping into someone. Those living conditions, added with awful food and a gloomy doom, would have driven the men to madness or despair; but one prisoner, who had been granted a cell all for himself, seemed to consider it his duty to raise his companions in misfortune' spirits by endlessly making fun of their guardian. Tobias, his face purple in humiliation, had a dangerous movement towards the keys hanging from his belt.

"I'm coming in and I'll bash your brains out, you little..!"

"Tsk, tsk," answered the singer, remaining hidden in his cell's shadows. "You wouldn't want to displease your betters, now, would you? It would be quite hazardous to your health."

"What the Hell do you mean?"

"I mean, you obtuse obese, that dragging a bruise-covered prisoner from out of jail to the gallows makes a bad effect on the audience. Citizens of this good city expect a good show from executions; do you think they will enjoy seeing a man being hanged while he can barely stand up? My battered appearance could even raise some cries for mercy and it would displease Chambers and his boss, especially after I would publicly name my tormentors. Chambers could punish you like ordering to go on a diet. The horror, the horror!"

Another row of laughter and the other prisoners grabbed some straw from out of their cells to throw it in the general direction of the guard. Tobias wished for the thousandth time he hadn't volunteered for prison duty. At the time, it had seemed a good plan to drink wine and play cards all day along without being disturbed, while wretched souls rotted alive in their cells. But since that last batch of prisoners had arrived a few days ago, his life had taken a turn for the worse – and all because of that troublemaker!

"Enjoy it while you can, you scum! That won't stop your neck from being broken. He who laughs last laughs the best!"

"My, a philosopher!" exclaimed the solitary prisoner. "I didn't expect that from you, I have to admit it. You are showing an admirable stoicism, even though you are currently showered with straw and sporting a red face, all this making you look like an overfed rooster. Since you are in such admirable spirits, I will resume my singing: **We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack, drink up me hearties, yo ho! Maraud and embezzle and even high-jack…**"

"NO! ENOUGH!" yelled Tobias, getting worried about having a riot on his hands. He had to find a way out of this situation, otherwise the other captives would start singing too and it would raise embarrassing questions. Heck, Chambers might think it an open mockery of his authority!

"Aw, why do you want to miss an occasion to brighten your otherwise lamentable life by refusing to listen to the melodious sound of my voice?"

"NO! Please, I'd give you anything you want if you stop that horrible noise!"

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

The boisterous prisoner climbed down his hard stone seat to come closer to the gate of his cell. The dungeons were poorly lit so Tobias couldn't see the man's features. Only a pair of dark, shining eyes was visible and they unnerved the fat soldier: it looked like the gaze of a leprechaun hiding in the shadows while planning a dirty trick.

"In that case, Tubby Toby, how about bringing me a flagon of rum?"

TBC…


	4. To fit the Bill

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- The origins of Bootstrap Bill's diamonds are explained in my other POTC stories.

- To Candi: you are so sweet! Thank you for your message.

* * *

**Chapter 4****: To fit the Bill**

_Port Royal, the next day…_

"Bootstrap" Bill Turner had never imagined he would be granted the favor to walk down the streets of Port Royal again.

Many years ago, during his time as a merchant sailor, he had spent some merry nights here, drinking and singing with his shipmates from dust 'til dawn while music played in the background and attractive ladies offered their services. But after he went pirating, he had feared to be recognized by former friends or, even worse, by representatives of the British crown so he had avoided Jamaica like the plague. And then, during his slavery aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, Bill had lost all hopes to see Port Royal. Davy Jones had chained him in a bottomless pit of despair and it had taken a gold-hearted man – his William – to pull him out of those depths so he would be allowed to feel the sun in his face again.

The burly-shaped man smiled at the thought of his beloved son, and then he walked resolutely towards the harbor. He was on a mission and he couldn't let himself be distracted by nostalgia. If his memory served right, there was another tavern nearby where he could continue his investigation.

It wouldn't have been possible for the ghost ship to tie up at the city's docks without creating a major panic, but sailing too far from the shore wouldn't have helped much, either. So Will had asked his guest, Mister Wang Tao, for directions to the remote creek where the _Black Pearl II_ had been captured. The Chinaman had remembered the way very well and around noon, the _Flying Dutchman_ had dropped the anchor in an arch-shaped creek wide enough to allow quick maneuvers, and with tall trees hiding the ship's masts. The _Black Pearl II _had been moved, displayed like a trophy in Port Royal's docks, so the creek had been a perfect hiding place to remain in the vicinity of the city without drawing unwanted attention. And then Bill had walked all the way from the ship to Port Royal, crossing the forest while making sure he wouldn't meet anyone, eager to accomplish the mission his son had entrusted him with.

Bootstrap Bill's eyes shone with tenderness as he recalled the conversation he had with Will a few hours ago…

_(Flashback)_

"_Papa, I have a special job for you."_

_Bill had been called to the Great Cabin and, as usual, he had stood to attention until Will had took his hand to direct him to one of the cushioned benches furnishing the room. The younger Turner had told his father a thousand times to not observe protocol when they were alone, but Bill couldn't stop himself from showing utmost respect towards his Captain… his hero who had saved him at the cost of a very high-priced victory._

_The Turners had sat down to talk and then, Will had deeply sighed:_

"_I have to ask you for a big favor, Papa, but remember that you are a free man so you can refuse. If you have the slightest reserve about it, just say so and I'll ask somebody else. And don't think for a moment I'll ever hold it against you…"_

"_Whatever it is, Will, I'll do it," interrupted Bill._

"_Don't you want to hear about the job before accepting?"_

"_No, my darling. I told you I would stand by your side through thick and thin. Whatever plan you have in mind to save that impossible Jack, you can count on my full support. But also… well, I'd like to play a part in the action, too."_

_Will smiled and Bill had a difficult time to refrain himself from crushing his son against his broad chest. God, how he loved that boy!_

"_Papa, I'__d like you to spy in the taverns and inns of Port Royal. We have to know exactly where Jack and the others are locked up."_

"_But Will, we already know Jack is held in the city's prison."_

"_That's right, Papa, but we have to know the location of his cell, and in which level he is. If he's in solitary confinement or thrown with the general population. If he has been injured during his arrest, or if Chambers plans to have him tortured before his execution. We need to gather every detail before we can make a valid plan for his escape."_

"_And you think I might find information in the taverns?"_

"_Sailors are the world's worst gossipers, and idle soldiers drink with them any time they get the occasion. If you pay for drinks all round, you'll become their new best friend and you will learn all the details about Jack before sunset. Commander Chambers may have led the attack against the _Black Pearl II_, but we don't know who the mysterious gentleman is – the one who is obviously the mastermind behind all this mess and we'd better know what kind of person he is."_

"_There's only a small problem, son. Tavern-keepers expect to receive solid cash before serving drinks and… er… Well, I don't have any money."_

_The elder Turner had lowered his eyes to the floor after he had confessed he was stony-broke. Hector Barbossa, Jack's former First Mate, had confiscated Bill's money before throwing him overboard. Jones, the monster who had enslaved him, had kept all riches stolen from attacked ships for his private enjoyment, leaving his crewmen only flagons of rum. Later, Will had casted those precious items to the sea, stating he wouldn't profit from his predecessor's pillaging so there wasn't a shilling left aboard the _Flying Dutchman_. Of course, Bill could "produce" diamonds – thanks to the miraculous gift he had acquired, fueled by the unadulterated love he felt for his son – but he could hardly use gems to pay for drinks._

_But William had simply slipped a bunch of silver shillings in his father's hand, saying:_

"_I've got it covered, Papa. This is a loan from Mister Wang Tao. He still feels responsible for the _Black Pearl II_'s capture and he wants to help us in any way he can. We'll find a way to reimburse him after Jack and the others are saved. But remember what Mister Wang Tao said: someone had spotted him when he tried to find news about the Spanish ship – that's the reason why I cannot ask our unexpected guest to go back to Port Royal in broad daylight. I hate the idea to send you downtown but you are the only one I can trust for this scouting job. Please, be cautious and choose your interlocutors wisely while visiting the taverns. I don't want you to end up in a cell on a spying charge."_

"_It won't happen, son of mine. Mister Wang Tao can't be taken for a sailor, but I've been a seaman all my life so I don't have to wear a disguise. It's been years since I've been in Jamaica, thus there's little chance I'll ever bump into an old acquaintance and I've never been in trouble with the law before I've become a pirate. You have been wise to choose me; I'm the best suited for this job and I swear I won't disappoint you."_

"_You never did, Papa."_

_This time, Bootstrap Bill had hugged his Captain and held him for a long, long time. Will had slowly pressed his ear against his father's shirt to listen to the big heart beating beneath the cloth: th-thump, th-thump, th-thump_…_ Hearing the wonderful sound of Bill's life in gave the young man strength and hope, much-needed feelings to help him endure his physical heartlessness. It was _"The secret" _the Turners shared, and Bill wouldn't have traded it for all the gold of the Western Indies. _

_(End flashback)_

_

* * *

_

Bill was walking towards his new place of investigations. He had already tried a few taverns since his arrival in town but so far, he hadn't had much luck: the _Singing Mermaid_ had burned down, the _Fearless Men_ was closed for repairs and he had wasted his time at the _Lighthouse Inn_ because nobody there had felt like talking to him. So after paying for his drinks, the elder Turner had decided to head for another drinking-hole, resolute to get some news about Jack. He refused to return to the _Flying Dutchman_ empty-handed!

Bill could feel Wang Tao's coins jingling inside his pocket as he spotted the wooden sign of the _Whale and Waterspout_, an inn he had visited a few times in the past – he had recognized the ensign with the whale and the jet of water, painted in faded colors. He made the movement to push the door open, but a detail drew the attention of the big man: the name "S. Garrett", which used to be carved in white letters at the top of the sign, had been clumsily scratched by the blade of a knife.

The _Dutchman_'s First Mate was puzzled by this sight: if Garrett had retired and sold his business, the new owner would have replaced the sign by another one bearing his name. What was the use in keeping a damaged one? But Bill couldn't be bothered by this little detail; shrugging off the matter, he entered the tavern.

It was dark and reeking of cheap alcohol, tobacco smoke and sweat – the usual smells that could be found in this kind of business. And yet, Bootstrap remembered the _Whale and Waterspout_ as a more joyful place during Garrett's time: it used to have good rum, a band playing in a corner when not joining in the fights, some nice-looking hired ladies and the beds upstairs were renowned to be bug-free. But now the place looked gloomy and depressing, as if a shadow had fallen on the low common room to poison any try of ambiance. The walls were dirty, the floor covered with filthy straw, the band was reduced to a blind man playing lugubrious melodies on his violin and the innkeeper – a fat man casting hateful glares at slumbering drunks – was standing behind the bar made of a plank stretched across three barrels.

Bill nodded in the direction of the keeper, and then he settled down at a rickety table in a corner, next to a dark-haired man who was already in his drinks. At once, a serving maid with unkempt hair and lips painted in a horrible shade of red approached him:

"Getya sum'think?"

"Yes, lunch with a glass of rum, please."

"One shillin', yu pay in advance," answered the girl with a disgusted look on her face, as if she expected her customer would bold out of the tavern after hearing the price of a meal. But her eyes widened after the elder Turner fished a coin out of his pocket and put it on the table without protests. The maid snatched the money away and ran towards the bar to process his order, eager to serve a potential good tipper. The violinist kept on playing his tune, oblivious of what could happen around him.

"Yu new in town," said the sailor next to Bootstrap matter-of-factly, looking in disgust at his empty flagon.

Bill had noticed a British ship anchored in the docks, _The Belerophon_, and apparently it had arrived only recently in Port Royal. The big man had decided he would use this vessel's name to give some plausible background for his cover-up story while asking innocent questions about Jack.

"I came with the _Belerophon_."

"_The Belerophon_?" repeated the sailor. "It arrived two days ago, and yu are comin' to town just now?"

"Aye, well… I got punished," said Bill, thinking fast. "The Captain locked me in the brig for three days so I've missed our arrival in Port Royal."

The sailor let out a long line of obscenities, curses and expletives about captains, their sex lives and the general worthiness of their orders; the serving maid, who had returned with Bill's meal, felt some color flooding into her face even though she was too jaded to blush any longer. She slammed the plate of stew on the table and turned her heels as quickly as she could to put some distance between her and the horrible words she was hearing.

"Thash what I think abbat cap-piss-stains!" concluded the dark-haired man.

"I agree with you, friend," said Bill with a half-smile while inwardly wishing he could punch the man on the nose for indirectly insulting his son.

"An' yur Cap'tain made yu pay a fine before lettin' yu go ahshore, thash why yu had to come to this tavern servin' water-like rum instead of the _Pride of England_, right?"

"Right," answered the elder Turner curtly, playing his part of the disgruntled sailor to the perfection. He remembered the _Pride of England_ was an inn which used to be in competition with the _Whale and Waterspout_ for acquiring the best customers, namely quiet sailors, Navy officers and even young noblemen with too much time and money to waste. And obviously, the _Pride of England_ had won those sought-after customers, leaving its rival in the mud.

"Ah knew it," said the sailor with a malevolent laugh. "Thash just the kinda thin' those high-an'-mighty bashtards would. Betya anyshing yur Cap'tain is buyin' toffees to his lady-friend with yur money by now before cuckoldin' her husband six ways to Sunday!"

"Aye," grumbled Bill, feigning annoyance while picking at the food inside his wooden bowl.

"Aw, don't look so downhearted, pal. Lotta things can happen on a ship… Like at night, a man disappearin' inna blink of an eye!"

"Nah, too dangerous. Our Captain is very uptight and there's no way to stroll around in the decks while off-duty. He has a heart of stone and he doesn't care if the men are sick, or too worn out to work: "discipline", "discipline", that's all he ever says! That's how I got punished, by the way: I fell asleep while standing night watch and the Captain said that since I was so tired, I could have a good rest in the brig.

The sailor slapped his empty flagon off his table, letting it crash on the floor. The innkeeper glared at him, but remained silent.

"Besides, killing an officer is a sure way to get hanged, and I don't fancy finding myself swaying at the end of a yard-arm," added Bootstrap Bill.

"Humph, only a noble can kill anuther noble on a ship at night without payin' it with the rope!" snarled the dark-haired man. "Thash what happened wif Swann…"

Those last words drew Bill's attention. Governor Swann, Will's late father-in-law… His son had told him about meeting his ghost in the Sea of Lost Souls; how Swann had warned Will, Elizabeth, Jack and the others about stabbing Jones' heart would make the knife-holder the new Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_; how Elizabeth had cried after realizing her father was dead, murdered by order of Lord Beckett who had gotten rid of his hostage before hunting down the Brethren Court…

The broad-shouldered man smiled, and then he clapped the seaman on the shoulder:

"Bah, let's not worry about those louts, friend. I can see you're thirsty and I hate to eat alone. Let me buy you a drink!

* * *

Three hours later, Bootstrap Bill's new friend – named Watson – was gloriously drunk. The elder Turner had discreetly paid for the rum, even tossed a handful of coins in the blind violinist's begging bowl so the music would drown the sound of their conversation. The other customers, awakened by the newfound beat of the music, were singing dirty songs at the top of their voices and the serving maid was dreaming about the tips she would earn by the end of the day. Oblivious of the noise, the innkeeper was dozing behind his bar. Through the dirty glass panels of a window, Bill had seen the sun setting behind the horizon and he knew he had to hurry: the _Flying Dutchman_ was well hidden by it was better to not push his luck.

The dark-haired Watson suddenly laughed his head off, startling the big man.

"What's so funny?"

"Shorry, pal, I was just rememberin' the look on dat bigwig's face after Sparrow wash gotten out of hish cell this mornin'. Never knew what hit him!"

_Bull's eye!_

"Eh? What do you mean?" asked Bootstrap with a fake drunken look on his face. "A sparrow hit the face of a bigwig?"

Watson almost fell off his chair in his hilarity.

"No no no, mate!" said the drunk, banging his fist on the table and making the numerous rum flagons jump in the air while tears of mirth ran down his face. "Thash not dat at all! Not this kind of sparrow, not the little feathered ones! I'm talkin' abbat Captain Jack Sparrow the pirate!"

"A pirate named Sparrow? I've never heard of the man," lied the elder Turner, silently thanking his good luck for finally finding a blabbermouth.

"He'sh kinda celebrity here, a real clown even if one cannut undershtand what he's saying! Sparrow tellsh wild stories abbat a lot of deeds he had done and it's fun to hear. All lies, the whole buch o' them but there's one shing true in all thish: he fought againsht Beckett and blew him ta Hell with hish regards. Yu've heard of Beckett?"

"Nope."

"He wash a black-hearted bashtard who would have killed hish mama for a few coins. He worked for the Easht India Tradin' Company and he got promoted Lord. But he was wantin' more, the foxy rascal, so he came to Port Royal to kill all the pirates in da whole God-damned world. And yu think he'd hav' satisfied hisself wif hangin' a few good men? Nossir, he wanted more again, so he had the pirates' wives killed, their kiddies, their fences, their suppliers and even some whores. A mass hangin', thash what happened in Port Royal, all these men an' women an' children dragged ta the gallows singin' _"Hoist the colors"_ wif their last breath. Poor Sam Garrett ended thash way…"

"Sam Garrett, you mean the previous owner of the _Whale and Waterspout_? I've noticed his name had been scratched on the sign hanging above the door…"

"Aye, him. Ol' Garrett used ta run the place and turned a blind eye abbat his pirate guests as long as they paid the bill in full. Beckett had him accushed of complicity and got him hanged wif the rest of them poor sods. New owner tried ta erashe Garrett's name from the sign while waitin' for anuther one he had ordered; but locals threatened ta burn the place down if he dared ta throw away the ol' _Whale and Waterspout_. They said it wash Garrett's tombstone."

Bill nodded, remembering Will's words about bodies of executed men and women thrown to the sea instead of being buried at the local cemeteries. No doubts the neighbors wanted to remember Samuel Garrett as a victim of Lord Beckett's mass hangings and the sign served as a memorial.

"Beckett had Gov'nor Swann under his greasy thumb," pursued Watson, "Thash how he got all those death sentences signed and when Gov'nor Swann rebelled, the Lordship had him killed. One sholdier who had survived the maelstrom told me sho."

"The maelstrom?"

"Aye, Beckett raised an armada to deshtroy the whole lot of pirates nearby Shipwreck Island, but Sparrow wash more clever and he led him right inta a maelstrom. After the tempest quieted down, Sparrow and anuther ship opened fire and wrecked Beckett to pieshes. One lump of shit less in the world, thash whatta say! But Sparrow left the Caribbean after thish feat 'cause things gotta too hot fur him."

"So he got to the open sea," prompted Bill while serving another glass of rum to his newfound friend. The other drunks were busy singing a bawdy song that involved a naive mermaid, a sex-starved sailor and an octopus, making so much noise it wouldn't have been possible for a spy to overhear Bootstrap's conversation with Watson.

"Aye, and fur years none has heard nutthin' abbat him; as if he had dishappeared from the ochean's surface! So it was a real surprise when he got captured nearby Port Royal by Chambers, the lousy cummander of Fort Charles. Never thought thash stuck-up had it in him…"

"And Sparrow is in jail, I suppose?"

"He wash! But fur some reason, a bugger of a bigwig decided he and the uther pirates had to be moved ta a new place to make shure they won't escape, becaushe Sparrow already flew outta thash jail once in the past."

Watson guffawed loudly again as he remembered the scene he had witnessed in the streets:

"Thash wash so funny! I woke up in the gutter this mornin' wif the mother of all hangovers, but just in time ta see Sparrow and his men dragged ta their new prison. The pirates were all chained and marchin' under guard, and they were s'posed to stay silent 'cause Chambers and the buggerin' bigwig comin' along wanted to put up a good front with the honesht-to-gudness citizens who were watchin' the convoy, then all of ah sudden Sparrow started ta sing his lungs out: _"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life fur me!"_. He kicked a sholdier's bottom, kissed a lady right in da mouth and wiped hish nose on her silk dress, burped in the face of the hushband when he tried ta stop him and then he stepped on Chambers' foot. The stuck-up yelped like a trot-on dog! Took six sholdiers to hold Sparrow and he snatched the tricorn of one o' them to put it on his head while singin' his song!"

Bootstrap Bill joined the laughter, but for the first time of the day it was genuine.

"But the funniesht part is… Sparrow was completely drunk! Dunno how he found anytthink ta drink in jail, but he got rat-arsed truly, deeply, madly! Made quite a ruckush and his comrades were laughin' all the way and the gud citizens were outtaged… outlagged…"

"Outraged?"

"Thash right! They screamed shame and scandal, is thish how prisoners are guarded, a mockery of jushtice and all that crap. Chambers wash red inna face but the buggerin' bigwig promished them a hangin' in three days and it shure did the trick ta make the eshtablishment shut up."

Bill felt his insides turn into seaweed. Three days before the gibbet… It meant Will had less than forty-eight hours to make a plan if he wanted to save his friend! Time was running out and the elder Turner still hadn't managed to know where Jack's new whereabouts and the Mystery Man's identity.

"Well, that bigwig seems to know how to handle the white-breaded world. Is he the judge who's going to put Sparrow on trial?"

"Phooey! Fat chance!" said Watson with a contemptuous look on his badly-shaven face. "He'sh no judge or gov'nor or Admiral, but he sure gives hisself airs like he owns the whole city. Thash slimy gentleman arrived last year in Port Royal, bought Gov'nor Swann's mansion and none knows his name, because his shervants don't talk outside the house: they are actin' like they work for the Devil himself! Scared as mice! But the bigwig mustave tons of money 'cause Gov'nor Laverty said to never asked any queshtions about him, how a man hash the right to privacy and all thash gibberish the high-an'-mighty used ta keep us gud folks atta safe distance. Some people thought the bigwig was some sorta criminal wif a wig, but Laverty vouched for him so everybody clammed up – and yu can bet the Gov'nor gets nice monnies for turnin' a blind eye. Just like Garrett did, only Laverty don't hafta fear the rope."

Watson eructed loudly and Bill briefly thought his breath was worse than Jack's – if possible! But then, his drinking companion added somberly: "Hope Sparrow got his laughs, 'cause where he is now, it's no laughin' matter."

"Yeah, you've said he has been moved to another jail this morning," prompted the elder Turner.

"Not inta anuther jail, mate! 'Tis far worse than any prison built on God's Green Earth since the beginnin' of times. The buggerin' bigwig and Chambers have locked Sparrow up in Hell and soon he'll beg for goin' to the gallows!"

"What do you mean?"

* * *

_Port Royal, __nightfall…_

Redcoats were already patrolling in the streets, and Bootstrap Bill didn't want to take any risks so he had exited the _Whale and Waterspout_ through a backdoor, while taking great care to not draw attention upon his person.

The big man had to reach the _Flying Dutchman_ as quickly as he could, but luck had been on his side: Watson was sprawled on the table, finally vanquished by the enormous quantities of alcohol he had absorbed. The other drunks had carried on singing, the violinist on playing and the innkeeper on dozing. The elder Turner had used the pretext of needing to answer a call of nature to leave the low common room and the serving maid had indicated him the location of the privy in the backyard. Bill had thanked her politely just before slipping outside, climbing at the wall contiguous with the next backyard and disappearing into the night.

Since he had paid their last drinks in full at the serving maid – with a healthy tip for the girl – the tavern's customers wouldn't notice his disappearance before a long time. He was tired and he had another long way to walk through Port Royal, then the forest, to make his report to Will. But gosh, what news he had! His mind was reeling with the astonishing and frightening information he had coaxed out of Watson.

The grumpy sailor had proven to be a godsend with that waggling tongue of his, encouraged by rum provided with Wang Tao's money. Bill had finally learned the name and location of the new place where Jack and his crewmembers had been transferred, and its terrible nature would be enough to make any decent man shudder with horror. This holding place was an abomination, a giant torture device, the absolute degeneration of the marine, something that shouldn't be allowed to exist under the sun!

Watson had been right: Jack had been locked up in Hell…

… And yet, with a good plan, this new jail might prove to be the downfall of the bird-named man's enemies.

TBC…


	5. Into the mouth of Hell

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- The chapter's title comes from a line of _"The charge of the Light Brigade"_ poem, written in 1854 by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892).

- To Candi: I hope you'll like Sobbered Jack as well! xD

- Details about maggots come from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter ****5: Into the mouth of Hell**

_Governor Swann's former grand mansion…_

"IMBECILE! INCAPABLE!"

"But, Milord…"

"CRETIN!"

"Milord!"

"Oh, shut your yap-trap, Chambers! Once again, you have superbly displayed your inability to follow simple orders! How did you ever managed to acquire the grade of Commander is beyond me!"

Chambers wasn't exactly having the time of his life. He was standing to attention in front of his unofficial employer, getting an earful about the scandal that happened in the morning during the prisoners' transfer from the jail to their new holding place. That accursed Sparrow had managed to make quite a commotion in the streets, right in front of the honest citizens of Port Royal and, as a result, the pirate captain was the talk of the whole city. The district of Saint Paul was roaring in outrage after His Gracious Majesty's justice had been ridiculed while the plebeians were gathered in smoke-filled taverns, laughing their heads off at the recollection of the prisoner's antics and speculating on his upcoming doom.

And whenever Sparrow's name was mentioned, the Commander's followed suit as everyone wondered how the prisoner had gotten so drunk while being under Chambers' guardianship. So he was scolded like a schoolboy who had broken a window while the gentleman ranted and raved, waving his arms around at the risk of knocking down the trinkets decorating his study. Night had fallen hours ago and Chambers wanted nothing more than to crawl to bed and sleep, instead of listening to his employer's complains. But considering the intensity of the older man's wrath, it wouldn't happen anytime soon.

"_Oh w__ell," _thought Chambers philosophically,_ "at least this time, I have remembered to empty my bladder before entering the house."_

"Can you imagine the length of the scandal caused by Sparrow?" roared the grey-haired man. "Even in chains and surrounded by redcoats, he has managed to make a fool out of my authority with his comic act! And on top of everything, some of the upper-class morons who had been watching have dared to laugh at his jokes. He has become their pet clown and you'll see that sooner or later, some of these fops will ask for leniency towards this outlaw!"

"It won't happen, Milord," answered Chambers firmly. "Funny as he is to their eyes, Sparrow remains a pirate and the law is quite clear: penalty for this kind of criminal act is death. The good citizens of Port Royal won't object to his hanging once they've realized it would allow them to sleep more soundly at nights."

"Aye, well they'd better not play sympathy for the Devil! Thanks goodness I had the idea to remove Sparrow and his scoundrels from the prison to have them locked up in my personal Hell pit. Didn't I warn you that he would try to escape from jail again? But oh no, you were so sure of your men!"

"Milord, none of my soldiers would have helped Sparrow to flee from his cell!" protested Chambers.

"Oh, really? They are all incorruptible, then?"

"Yes, Milord, they are!"

"Then how do you explain Sparrow was **blind drunk** this morning?" yelled the grand mansion's Master, banging his fist on the table. One inkwell toppled over and poured its contents on the thick Turkish carpet, but none of the men noticed the accident. "He was as wasted as a sailor who had been at sea for a year and a day! And as far as I know, alcohol isn't part of a prisoner's meal, so how in the world did he get so drunk? You still haven't figured this it out, have you? Well, let me provide you with the answer: Sparrow had bribed the guards to get his booze!"

"But Milord, there is a far cry between smuggling a flagon of rum between bars and helping a prisoner escape!"

"I don't care! Weakness is weakness, and I won't tolerate it. The soldier who had let himself being bought will be hanged alongside Sparrow's crewmembers, as an example for the other soldiers; they will think twice before providing alcohol to prisoners for a few copper coins."

Chambers gulped loudly: "Milord…"

"Yes? Were you going to say something about your Captain's insignias, you mutt?"

The man in uniform gritted his teeth, and then shook his head; he was trapped and he knew it. One word too many and he would loose his only chance to gain his captaincy. He would have to spend the rest of his military career keeping books and watching soldiers' training at Fort Charles, never to steer a ship again. But he wished this foolish business was over, so he would make his employer walk the plank once they would get to the open sea, supposedly in search of the _Flying Dutchman_!

"No, Milord," said Chambers, deciding that Private Tobias was definitively less important than his career.

"Good! Now, since Sparrow has humiliated me in front of the whole city, this calls for severe reprisals. I won't content myself with sending him and his crew to the executioner: tomorrow, you will arrest everyone in town suspected of sympathy towards pirates, regardless of age and sex: in three days, there will be a mass hanging in Port Royal."

Chambers' face turned a ghastly pale: nine years ago, Lord Beckett had sent more than four hundred men, women and children to the gallows, on the charge that they were more or less related with pirates – either by blood or by deed – and the souvenir of that terrible day still haunted his dreams.

"Milord, you can't do this!"

"Don't tell me what I can do or not, you mongrel!"

"Please, listen to me! Lord Beckett had ordered all persons acquainted with pirates to be hanged and it had almost provoked a riot in town. The citizens of Port Royal hadn't realized the executions would include women and children before it was too late… but afterwards, revolt spread like wildfire through the city and several soldiers have been attacked. And it shouldn't surprise you!" added Chambers after the grey-haired gentleman had snorted derisively. "Do you honestly think the condemned people's families weren't going to react after watching their relatives heading for the gallows? There were open cries for revenge, and a mob had even formed to lynch Lord Beckett! The situation became so dangerous, he left Jamaica in a hurry to seek for the Brethren Court; otherwise he wouldn't have come out of his house alive."

"It was because Admiral Norrington had failed to organize an appropriate protection for Lord Beckett! That man was nothing more than a high-ranked wimp, just like you; if he had been worthy of his salt, he would have make the soldiers fire at the crowd without a second thought!"

"You're wrong, Milord," replied Chambers, a bit cross at the man slandering the memory of Admiral Norrington, a man he happened to admire. "This dangerous situation was the direct result of Lord Beckett executing children. Breaking kids' necks has never been a good way to win the crowd's favor. It was horrible to watch those little victims climbing the gallows' stairs. A lot of soldiers resented these executions, including myself."

"You're a sentimental fool! Lord Beckett knew the proper way to deal with pirates. And who cares if a bunch of snot-nosed louts is eliminated? They were a bad lot, the whole of them. The citizens of this smelly city should have been grateful that those brats were finally off the streets!"

"Nonetheless, Milord, I wouldn't recommend you to employ Lord Beckett's methods. It could backfire on us very badly."

"I don't give a fig for your recommendations, Chambers. What I've said goes. I want a mass hanging in three days so it's your responsibility to find some necks to break: prostitutes and their whelps, guttersnipes, smugglers, crooks, drunks, whatever scum you can find in the streets. You'll keep them locked in my new detention centre while Judge Carr and Governor Laverty will sign all the needed papers. And to make our display of power more spectacular, they will be all hanged from the _Black Pearl II_ yard-arms – except for Sparrow. I want that goddamned clown to witness the execution of all the prisoners, pirates and petty criminals alike; then he'll be taken over to the main marketplace to receive his rightful punishment. I'll make arrangements with the executioner so Sparrow will suffocate slowly from the rope tied to his neck, and the last thing he'll ever see will be the destruction of his ship. The _Black Pearl II _will be filled with gunpowder to explode at the exact second when its Captain draws his dying breath. It will make a magnificent firework!"

* * *

_Aboard the Flying Dutchman…_

The full moon was hidden behind heavy clouds and the _Flying Dutchman_, still anchored in the creek, was completely invisible in the blackness. Joel McCarthy, the _Dutchman_'s carpenter for more than fifteen years, glanced at the dark forest for the millionth time since he had started his night watch. Only a few sailors had remained on the upper deck and Captain Turner had withdrawn in the Great Cabin. McCarthy knew the young man was concerned for his father, who had gone to town to gather information about Captain Sparrow's fate, so he had retired in his private quarters to avoid showing a worried face to his crewmembers.

McCarthy leaned on the ship's rail and looked down: Mister Wang Tao, the Chinese who had come last night bearing bad news, was curled up in his tiny dinghy, sound asleep under a blanket and with his head pillowed on one of the benches. The carpenter thought the man ought to be tired after his endless search for help and sailing alongside the _Dutchman_ for a night and a day to reach Jamaica. Too bad his mortal status wouldn't allow Wang Tao to climb aboard the ghost ship where he would have more space to sleep, but he never complained about his living accommodations. Captain Turner had ordered his men to give their unexpected guest some food and water, which had been accepted with ample demonstrations of gratitude. It had giving an amusing moment for the crew, making the men laugh – even though McCarthy hadn't understood a word of Mister Wang Tao's complex vocabulary – and Captain Turner had half-smiled just before locking himself inside the Great Cabin.

The carpenter sighed, and then he looked at the shores once again. The First Mate's absence was upsetting their Captain, and the _Flying Dutchman_'s crew hated anything or anyone that compromised their leader's well-being. McCarthy didn't fear the ship or its crew would be destroyed if Captain Turner was endangered: that kind of twisted loyalty had been Davy Jones' trademark hold on his slaves, and it had vanished after the tentacle-faced monster had plunged into the whirlpool. But for nine years now, the young Turner had been his men's salvation by giving them hope, forgiveness and a future, and the sailors would fight demons and harpies to protect him.

Watching the slumbering spy in the tiny boat, McCarthy somehow got the feeling Mister Wang Tao would defend their Captain with the same ferociousness if needed. Before leaving for Port Royal, Mister Turner had told the crew about his participation in the fight against Red Hand Pete, and the Chinaman had instantly earned the respect of the _Dutchman_'s sailors. Any friend of their Captain was a friend of theirs!

"_But still, it'd be nice if Mister Turner is gonna come back soon," _thought McCarthy. _"Cap'tain's not pleased by his absence, and I'm not for liking our young Cap'tain's not pleased."_

A long moment passed, and then something caught the eye of the sailor, like a movement within the forest's ink-like shadows. McCarthy waited for another while, and then he got confirmation something was happening: movement could be seen again, but this time it was on the water… a dark shape was sliding on the waves… Yes, it was a longboat! Mister Turner was coming back!

McCarthy smiled widely as his eyes made out the tall silhouette of Bootstrap Bill, breaking his back on the oars to reach the _Flying Dutchman_ as quickly as possible. It looked like the old rascal had managed to worm his way through Port Royal without being spotted, and he was in a hurry to make his report to the Captain. McCarthy turned about and grabbed the shoulder of a shipmate who was dozing nearby:

"Hey, Jeroboam, wake up!"

"Hunh? Wassgoin'on?" grumbled the sailor.

"Get on your feet, sleepyhead, and go downstairs ta warn the Cap'tain that Mister Turner is back from Port Royal!"

* * *

_Into the mouth of Hell…_

Captain Jack Sparrow had known some bad situations in his life… but this one really was the all-time champion of the world.

Unlike the common sailors bearing the same tendency of alcoholic overindulgence, Jack had never lost his memories after a drinking bout. Quite the contrary! His elephant-like memory was prodigious, as sharp as a cutlass, and no quantities of rum could cloud his uncanny intelligence. So wherever he had woken up after a night of carouse, in the bed of a pretty woman, a pig sty or aboard his ship, Jack had never wasted time trying to figure out how he had arrived there after regaining consciousness. His legendary wits would provide him with the answer in a flash, giving him a good head-start to escape an eventual peril without risking his precious health – even through an inevitable hangover would slow his movements. Headaches were the usually annoying consequence of drinking too much, but Jack had always compensated any kind of physical unfitness by his brilliant eloquence.

However, this time his agile brains and his silver-tongue wouldn't be of any use… because he had woken up a few minutes ago in the semi-darkness, inside a tiny box and with a hangover.

Jack sighed, and then he tried to shift position but to no avail; his new holding cell measured about six feet in length for barely three feet in height and width, entirely made of wood planks except for the iron bars of the door. In fact, it looked like a hutch, or a cage initially designed to contain medium-sized animals and it was way too small to allow a man to lie down or sit, let alone to stand up.

Even Jack's slender frame had trouble adjusting to this narrow box and he guessed it was an idea from his unknown enemy to make his imprisonment a torture. A man kept twenty-four hours a day in a tiny place where he would be unable to move without bumping his head, his arms or his legs against the walls would soon know the devastating effects of sleep deprivation… and no doubts Jack would also be acquainted with lack of food as well.

"_Not to mention rum deprivation. Now, that would be a failure-proof way to drive me to madness, but __there's a catch: sanity and I have parted company years ago!"_ thought Jack, desperately trying to find a relatively-comfortable position inside his cage.

He moved his legs as best as he could, and then finally settled for sitting in a fetus-like posture, his head resting between his knees and his shackled hands wrapped around his legs, while his feet pressed against one of the cage's walls. Not the best way to make a hangover pass, true, but it would have to do for the moment because he needed to think.

Because this narrow box wasn't the only problem… Jack was also trapped in the belly of a monstrous beast.

He remembered every detail of what happened this morning: the redcoats chaining his men before taking them outside, he being grabbed out of his cell by the scruff of his neck, the manacles, marching through Port Royal's streets under the morning sun, the gawping faces of honest citizens, Chambers' anxious eyes, the grey-haired gentleman's satisfied smile… until inebriated Jack had started to sing _"A pirate's life for me"_ and had played the fool, of course.

The _Black Pearl II_'s commander laughed quietly as he remembered the scandal he had caused. Even as drunk as a skunk – courtesy of Private Tobias – Captain Jack Sparrow had managed to be worthy of his reputation as the undisputed champion of mischief. The scandal he had raised in Port Royal's streets would go down in history, and his antics had sure done the trick to make it rain on Chambers' and his boss' parade! Wasn't it a wonder that his superior mind worked at its tops when intoxicated and in mortal danger? Wasn't it a proof that his incredible ingenuity placed him above mankind?

Alas, his triumph had been short-lived. It had taken ten redcoats to seize him, but in the end they had managed to drag him to Port Royal's harbor, where the most horrible prison a seaman could dream of waited for him. Then, the soldiers under Chambers' command had separated him from his men; Marty, Cotton and the others had protested, saying they wanted to remain with their captain, but brutal mistreatment had been delivered and the shackled pirates had to fall back. In the struggle Cotton's parrot had flown away, squawking _"Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" _over and over. One of the soldiers had fired at the blue and yellow bird, but Cotton had kicked him in the shin and the bullet went astray. As if the old guy would let a rookie shoot down his favorite interpreter! Jack had praised Cotton's loyalty towards his feathered friend by starting to sing _"A pirate's life for me"_ again, but the redcoats had gotten a bit nervous about hearing the catchy tune. Jack had been roughly grabbed and taken in the bowels of his new prison, while his men were locked up in the upper levels.

The pirate captain remembered perfectly the nausea he had felt after he had drawn his first breaths inside the detention centre: even inebriated, Jack had a nose like a hunting dog and the smells emanating from the construction were simply… unbearable. Worse than the ones usually found below deck of the _Black Pearl II_ after his men had spent the night there, tucked in their hammocks and with the gun ports closed! It was obvious no natural light or fresh air hadn't entered the prison for years, and even thought Jack was no novice about foul smells – a consequence of his outlaw career and his sometimes-neglected personal hygiene – he had almost vomited on the soldiers' boots.

And then he had been dragged to the lower levels through narrow corridors and darkened stairs, making him stumble and fall many times: luckily, the redcoats surrounding him had proved to be excellent cushions! Finally, the exasperated soldiers had thrown him in the narrow, barred box without bothering to untie him. After they had locked him inside the cage, they had wished him a good stay before scrambling for the upper levels; it seemed the army men weren't too enthusiastic about this place, either. And then, Jack had fallen asleep, finally vanquished by the rum… to wake up with a splitting headache, a growling stomach, bad memories and a total absence of ideas.

"Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho…" whispered the silver-tongued pirate, but this time his voice was melancholic. Jack moved his head, making the numerous beads and trinkets entangled in his dreadlocks jingle softly. There was only one pitiful lantern in the area, and its glass panels were so dirty it gave hardly sufficient illumination for a captive to see the hands in front of his face.

But Captain Sparrow's eagle-eyes didn't need light to see and he quickly realized that on top of being locked in a hutch-like contraption, he was also detained in a low-ceiling room with only one door: a cell within a cell. There was another cage opposite his, with a narrow passage between them. Bits of construction materials had been left scattered on the floor – a few planks, a pail, a forgotten length of canvas –, nothing useful for an escape. But the room was overheated and the smell of the room was overwhelming; in comparison, Jack's armpits were a bunch of roses!

Jack sighed again, and then some snickers could be heard nearby. He raised his obsidian-colored eyes to see than he had been mistaken: he wasn't alone in this gloomy room. Apparently, cage number two also had a tenant and for all he could see, it was a skinny man with malevolent eyes and a mess of dirty dark hair plastered on his skeletal face.

"So, you have finally awaken, you stupid clown?" hissed the man.

"And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" asked Jack while thinking at the same time: _"Bugger! Davy Jones' Locker was bad, but at least I didn't have unwanted neighbors!"_

"Don't yu try yur high-and-fancy words with me, Sparrow! Am not an idiot, and yu won't fool me like yu do with all the other idiots. 'Sides, putting on airs won't help yu to escape the hangman, so yu'd better keep yur words for yurself!"

"You still haven't answered the question, my good man. Common courtesy between gentlemen of fortune asks for an exchange of names and greetings before opening a conversation."

"Damn yu! Yu gonna say yu don't know me?"

"No, should I?"

"You bleedin' bastard! Yu haven't heard of The Maggot?"

"Well, I do happen to know maggots are insects in the larval phase of their development. This kind of metamorphosis is noted in airborne insects, such as flies. Maggots are usually fat, whitish in color and their aspect is quite repulsing. However, their usefulness for cleaning wounds …"

"Goddamn yu! I'm talking 'bout the other Maggot! Have yu never heard of this name?"

"No. Who is he, your wet nurse?"

The other prisoner snarled in rage, and then he reached out to try and grab Jack through the bars of his cell. Fortunately, the two cages were too far apart for him to do so.

"Damn yu to Hell! I am The Maggot. I'm more famous than yu, Sparrow! I'm the one who has shot down Longshanks Louis, the French buccaneer!"

"So?" answered Jack disdainfully. "It must have served Longshanks Louis right for keeping his back turned at you."

"I shot him straight in the face!"

"Oh, come on, now! Who is trying to fool who? Do you want me to believe you can actually tell the difference between a man's front and his back? Your wild stories wouldn't convince a cabin boy!"

The Maggot's pale face turned a fiery red before he yelled a long series of insults while jumping up and down his narrow cage like a crazed monkey. Then he grabbed at a small metallic tin he used as a chamber pot to hurl it in the general direction of Jack's cage. The recipient ricocheted against the door's bars and the malodorous liquid spilled all over Jack, making him say:

"What an unneighborly neighbor!"

"Yu think yur so smart, Sparrow? Always bragging abbat yur brains and how yu are better then the rest of us pirates. Longshanks Louis was just like yu, parading like he owned the Earth until I blew his brains out. I shouldave received a medal fur this, but that accursed Chambers captured me and his God-almighty boss ordered to locked me in that Hell pit. A maggot to keep company to a sparrow, he said, that wig-powdered bastard! He seemed to have quite a grudge against yu, and if yu think yur fine words will help yu to weasel yur way out, then yu're crazier than yu look. Yu're doomed, Sparrow, and yur tricks won't stop the judge to pluck yur feathers out."

"Well, some of us have to keep the criminal law people on business. Even though I highly doubt the professionalism of Port Royal's executioner; by past experience, I know the man can't hang a curtain if his life depended on it. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a little snooze in my cozy cage. Would you be kind enough to not make incongruous noises out of the natural respect due to a man who is outranking and outwitting you?"

"Motherless scum!"

"Oh, shut your big mouth; otherwise, you'll catch a cold!"

TBC…


	6. A mockery of Justice

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Candi: thank you for your message! I am glad you like the story so far.

- This chapter contains references to one of my stories, _"A cry in the darkness"_.

- The _H.M.S. Justice _is inspired by the _H.M.S. Jersey_, which served during the American revolutionary war (1775–1783) in Wallabout Bay, off the shores of Brooklyn, New York.

- This chapter is dedicated to Capitano!

* * *

**Chapter ****6: A mockery of Justice**

_Aboard the Flying Dutchman…_

"Sure 'tis nice to see ya, Mister Turner!" said Joel McCarthy after Bill had stepped foot on the ghost ship's upper deck and his longboat had been haul up on its supports.

"Thanks, Mister McCarthy. Where's the Captain?"

"Inside the Great Cabin, Sir, and if I may say so, he's waitin' for you with a lotta impatience, Sir!"

Bill had a small smile at those words; for nine years he had been sailing with his son and their relationship had deepened in ways he would never have imagined, as he had originally feared Will would resent his father's desertion too much to ever forgive him. But the young Turner had proven through and through that he loved him unconditionally, never regretting the price he had to pay for _"saving the world's best Papa"_ and therefore, their bound had blossomed under a shining light of love and complicity. Bill had vowed to remain at his son's side for the rest of his life, watching over him day and night so it wasn't surprising if Will was impatient to see Bootstrap, since it had been the first time in nine years the Turners had been separated… apart from that nasty business with Red Hand Pete, of course.

Bill thanked the carpenter, and then he walked in the direction of the Great Cabin, which was located beneath the _Dutchman_'s helm. There was a ray of light visible under the bottom rail of the door, a sure sign the Captain was awake and had lightened some candles. Bill knocked at the door, calling out loud in a formal fashion:

"Captain? It's Mister Turner, back from Port Royal to make a report."

A soft _"Come in"_ was heard from the other side of the wooden panel, and Bootstrap Bill stepped in the Great Cabin. He barely had the time to close the door behind him before a form jumped out of nowhere to squeeze the life out of him!

"Ooof! Will!"

"Papa!"

The Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ was hugging his father so tightly that Bill thought for sure his ribs would break under the pressure. But it would never cross his mind to ask his personal angel to stop! He wrapped his arms around Will, whispering in his ear:

"Son… Son! I'm not back from the war, just from a trip ashore!"

"I'm sorry, Papa," answered Will, his voice muffled by Bootstrap's shirt. "But I've missed you so much! The hours felt like years; I was worried something awful might happen to you and… God, Papa, it is unbearable to stay aboard that ship without you."

The elder Turner heard anguish in those words, and he rubbed his child's back in a reassuring gesture. Will had never complained about his soul-ferry duty and yet, he suffered daily from his separation with his wife and tiny glimpses of sorrow sometimes escaped from his stoic façade. All the _Dutchman_'s crewmembers knew how hard it had been for their young Captain to sail away from his beloved Elizabeth and they hadn't dared to talk about that subject once, not even below deck when they were off-duty. As for Bill, he had been harvesting guilt feelings about this situation for years – since he was indirectly responsible for it – and it had fueled his dedication to protect his son body, mind and soul, in every way possible.

Bootstrap also knew his mission in Port Royal had been hard for Will because his anxieties had resurfaced recently, the _"what ifs"_ concerning his upcoming liberation. Will had no doubts about his wife's faithfulness but he couldn't help but fear that an event would prevent Elizabeth from coming to their rendezvous, making his freedom slip away from his fingers by a cruel twist of fate. Bill cradled his cherished son's face between his calloused hands, locked his sapphire orbs on the dark gaze, and said:

"My darling Little One! You have been so courageous during your exile. Nobody can measure up to you, and whoever trying to mock you for feeling frightened is a coward and an idiot. There is no shame in you being worried, Will. It's the proof that, despite the powers you've gained, you have remained a human being instead of an arrogant monster like Davy Jones. Lesser men would have become irremediably embittered after the maelstrom battle but not you, light of my life. In spite of everything, you have remained true to yourself and your goodness will be rewarded. Just one more year, Will, and you'll have your freedom. Oh, I know you have been having nightmares these past weeks: I've heard you crying in your sleep. You dream about something or someone stopping Elizabeth from meeting you on Shipwreck Island so you'd have to do an extra ten years of soul-ferry duty, don't you? Will, I'm ready to wager my soul that it won't happen. I've met Elizabeth only once but I know she is strong, smart and resourceful: pity to the fool who'd try to stand on her way! So look at your Papa in the eyes, and hear his words: _you-will-be-freed_. No ship, oath or magic can prevent that, and do you want to know why? It's because **you are pure love**, and love cannot be chained by anything. That's an absolute certainty!"

Will gave a grateful smile at his father before clasping him in his arms again, basking in the warmth, strength and protection pouring out of the elder Turner. He slowly moved his head so his right ear would be pressed against Bill's shirt, to listen to the big heart beating beneath it - _"The secret"_. The young man had often thought he would have gone crazy from the unfairness of his imposed duty long ago without Bill's love, support and heart, but he had never said it out loud since madness reminded the older man too much of Davy Jones.

After a long moment, the two men ended the hug – albeit reluctantly – and then Will asked:

"You must be tired from your mission, Papa. Why don't you sit down and I'll make us some tea?"

Bill hesitated for an instant; he had planned to make the account of his trip to Port Royal at once, but he sensed William wanted to pamper him a little. Truth to be told, he was feeling worn out from his long day and trekking through the forest, back and forth.

"Aye, it would be very nice."

"Just make yourself comfortable in an armchair and I'll get a collation ready."

Minutes later, Bootstrap was gulping down a cop of hot, sweetened tea while Will served bread, oranges and slices of smoked meat. Even though the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ was impatient to learn about Jack's fate, he wanted to make his father feel warm and relaxed. He sat on a nearby chair and waited patiently for Bill to finish his meal. Finally, the older man drained his tea and wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand:

"I've learned where Jack is being locked up, Will. He has been transferred to another jail and it's good, very good indeed!"

"Oh, thanks Heaven! Where is he?"

"Jack is held inside a pontoon, son."

Will's beautiful face turned pale after hearing this declaration. A pontoon… a prison hulk, the absolute horror for a sailor! He had never seen one but he had heard terrible stories – mostly from Joshammee Gibbs – about seamen or soldiers being captured by their nation's enemies and being trapped inside beached, dismasted ships which were too obsolete or too damaged to be used for combat. The captives were literally buried alive in overcrowded holds, without accesses to fresh air or natural light, suffocating slowly before dying of disease, hunger or mistreatments at the hands of their guardians. Aboard those sinkholes, only filth and vermin prevailed. It was rumored that sick prisoners received absolutely no kind of medical help whatsoever and dead bodies were buried in shallow graves on the beach, without bothering with tombstones or crosses. Some officers abused of their authority to rouse prisoners in the middle of the night to have them summarily executed on the gallows, adding terror to dreadful detention conditions as the poor wretches didn't dare falling asleep, out of fear it would be their last night on Earth.

And Jack was held in one of those hulks… the famous Captain Sparrow, who like his namesake should be as free as a bird, was locked up inside an abomination! No doubts Commander Chambers and the unknown gentleman wanted their prized captive to be weakened by thirst and hunger, so he wouldn't be able to oppose any resistance when the noose would be tied around his neck. Will could already picture in his mind the broken shell of his friend, swaying on his feet and begging in vain for water, in front of a crowd of citizens yelling for the blood of the _"smelly, skinny pirate"_ while the executioner waited for Chambers' signal to pull the lever.

And Bill said that Jack's imprisonment aboard a pontoon was good news?

"Papa, are you sure of this?"

"I am, Will. The pontoon's name is the _H.M.S. Justice_ and it's located in the harbor. I saw it with my own eyes, just before walking my way back to the _Flying Dutchman_."

"But, Papa! How you can say Jack being held in this monstrous jail is a good thing?" asked Will, feeling outraged and furious. Long hours of worry about Bootstrap and Jack were beginning to take their toll on him, and for the briefest instant he was almost angry at his father.

Bill gently took one of his son's hands, gave it a reassuring squeeze and answered calmly:

"My Little One… the _H.M.S. Justice_ is **afloat**."

Will's eyes widened and he slowly got up on his feet, making Bootstrap release his hand. The young man's face was still white in shock but his brains were functioning at full speed, just like Captain Sparrow's when confronted to a perilous situation created by either his illegal activities or his abundant vocabulary.

The _H.M.S. Justice _was afloat. Unlike the other pontoons, it hasn't been beached; it was… _on_ _water_.

Will's mind reeled with all the new opportunities his father had provided him with this information. He was forbidden to step foot on land for another year and, since Wang Tao's visit, it had torn him apart to think he wouldn't be able to help Jack if his friend had been held inside a jail built on solid ground. But a floating pontoon was nothing but an unmovable ship without masts, guns and rudder, chained by its anchor at the docks. Gibbs had told Will that only armed guards could defend pontoons and they were mostly punished soldiers or mercenaries, men with an extremely frail loyalty who usually wouldn't fight to the death against intruders.

And Will was gifted with the ability to "transport" himself on any ship, provided it had several feet of sea water beneath its hull …

During the long hours of Bootstrap's absence, Will had imagined many plans for Jack's escape, thinking it better to keep himself busy rather than worrying to death about his father or his friend; but crucial information had been lacking so he had dismissed all those ideas. And now they were clicking into place inside his brains, with the precision and the certainty of a jigsaw puzzle. In less than a minute, Will had found the perfect plan. Oh yes, he would snatch Jack from Chambers' and the gentleman's hands: he knew how to do it and he had the proper means to act!

Will turned around and this time, his handsome features were glowing with joy.

"Oh, Papa! You're a wonderful man. This is the best news you could bring me!"

"I knew you would be pleased, son of mine," answered the seated man. "And, on top of everything, I saw the _Black Pearl II_ anchored nearby the _Justice_! No doubt Chambers wanted to display it in the harbor. I've got it on good authority that Jack's crew is holed up with him, meaning we wouldn't have to search long and hard to free Pintel, Ragetti and the others. I know you won't abandon them to the hangman, insufferable rascals they may be. But we have to hurry, my love: according to my source, the executions are scheduled in three days. The men will quickly fall sick from the _Justice_'s promiscuity and thus, they won't be able to react and run fast if we come to release them."

"I've figured out a plan, Papa. If everything goes smoothly, Jack will escape in two nights and without firing a single shot!"

Bootstrap's sky-blue eyes shone in pride: trust Will to make a plan in a snap! The boy had brilliant brains and that wasn't surprising: he had inherited them from his wonderful mother. But Will noted a shadow crossing his father's face, so he came closer to kneel in front of the older man's armchair.

"Papa, what is it? You seem bothered by something."

"There's one thing I haven't been able to found out, Will: the identity of the man behind Jack's capture, the one who has Chambers under his thumb. For all I've learned, he has arrived in Port Royal a year ago and he lives like a recluse, hiding in his grand mansion and speaking to no one, including the local bigwigs. He comes out of his house only at nights, in a carriage where the window-shutters are closed so there are only a few persons who have seen his face. The drunk I've interrogated at the _Whale and Waterspout_ told me his servants are scared witless of him; but their master seems to have enough money to keep the rich nosy-parkers at a distance, and Governor Laverty's name was mentioned."

"So this misanthropic fellow doesn't hesitate to corrupt the Governor so his identity will remain a secret, all this to keep his own plan safe from leaking. It means he is wealthy and determined," mused Will out loud.

"Most probably, and it's hard to fight an enemy if we don't know his motives."

"Ah, but they are clear enough: he wants Jack dead. This gentleman doesn't seem to care about throwing away his fortune or wrecking his reputation within the closed circle of the Jamaican wellborn. He has an obvious hate for Jack and he'll stop for nothing to accomplish his revenge. Rich, ruthless and enraged, that's our enemy. But his obsession has caused him to make a mistake."

"What do you mean, my William?"

"This gentleman wants to break Jack before having him executed, but he somehow considered the walls of Port Royal's prison wouldn't be strong enough to keep that silver-tongued scoundrel inside. So, in order to improve what was already perfect, he had him transferred in a pontoon and it will be the mysterious gentleman's downfall. The tide of the battle has turned and it's a relief, because I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to do anything for Jack and this very idea was simply revolting!"

Bill took his still-kneeling son in his arms again and Will buried his face in the folds of the mended shirt, sighing in contentment. The young man had longed for this contact during his childhood, and for years it had been his secret wound. But since the Turners had been reunited, they never missed an occasion to hug each other. He felt Bill stroking his dark locks of hair, knowing it had a soothing effect on him (_"You are just like your mother, Will. She loved it when I massaged her head, the dear girl"_) and he smiled, feeling blessed by the older man's steadfast support and love.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you still want to participate in Jack's rescue? It will be risky and dangerous."

"You are not going nearby the _H.M.S. Justice_ without me, my love," answered Bootstrap firmly. "I'll never let you out of my sight, not even when you're old and gray."

Will chuckled lightly at this statement, just before asking: "But what if, for my plan to work, you'll have to stay aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ for a while?"

Bill sighed, but he never stopped twisting Will's long hair around his fingers.

"I won't like it one bit, son, since the only thing I hate in this world is leaving your side. But I trust you and I know you've made an excellent plan. You must have good reasons to leave me behind. Besides, your word is my law – and I'm not talking here about you being the Captain of this ship. Whatever you want me to do, consider it done."

"Thank you, Papa. Because your role is paramount in my plan to make Jack and his men flee the _H.M.S. Justice_. They wouldn't be able to go very far without you!"

"What is your idea, my darling?"

* * *

Hours later, after Will had given full details of his plan for Captain Jack Sparrow's escape, Bootstrap Bill had left the Great Cabin to earn a well-deserved rest in his quarters. The Captain, however, was on duty so Will reached the upper deck to give orders to his crew. The sailors saluted their commander with the usual respect and Will smiled at them, just before noticing the first rays of dawn coloring in pink and pale gold colors the eastern horizon. The _Flying Dutchman_ would have to leave the creek soon, as its presence could be spotted by unfriendly eyes and inquiries could be made, tedious things that Will wanted to avoid at all costs. But first, he wanted to have a conversation with his guest

"Is Mister Turner comin' on deck, Cap'tain?" asked Joel McCarthy.

"No, Mister McCarthy, he has turned in – as you should do as well. You can go below deck, I'll take first watch."

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

"How is Mister Wang Tao faring?"

"Last I've checked, he was lost in Dreamland aboard his dinghy, Sir."

Will reached the _Dutchman_'s rail and took a peek downwards: asleep in his tiny boat which was rocky gently on the waves, the aforementioned little man looked both harmless and defenseless. But from his father's often-told tale of the fight against Red Hand Pete and his ship _The Conqueror_, Will knew Wang Tao was anything but!

"I'm going to have a chat with our guest, Mister McCarthy. I won't be long."

"Very well, Cap'tain."

Will closed his eyes and disappeared from the ghost ship's main deck to instantly "materialize" aboard the cockleshell. McCarthy couldn't repress a gasp at this sight: even if he had seen his Captain accomplish this prodigious feat many times, it never failed to surprise him!

The young Turner sat down on the dinghy's narrow bow bench but Wang Tao kept on snoring softly, completely unaware of another presence so close to him. Then, Will called softly:

"Mister Wang Tao?"

The spy's eyes opened in a snap: he jumped on his feet like a spring with a thin dagger in his right hand, ready to stab at anything or anyone within his reach! The brusque reaction had been so surprising McCarthy almost shouted in alarm, fearing for his Captain's safety but Will held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Peace, Mister Wang Tao. I have no quarrel with you."

"_Shénme?_ (What?)" said the Chinese, and then his rapidly-clearing brains realized he had almost attacked the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ after being taken away from the arms of Morpheus. He blushed in embarrassment and quickly stashed the dagger back inside his dark silken clothes. "Oh, I am so sorry, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel! My incredibly stupid person admits to not have heard you approaching my miserable ship and I have overreacted at the unexpected sound of your voice. Please receive my humblest and sincerest apologies!"

"They are accepted, Mister Wang Tao," said Will good-naturally. "Since you are up and about, I'd like you to listen to a request I have to make."

"With gratitude, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel," answered the Chinaman, bowing so deeply he almost banged his head against the dinghy's unique mast.

Will waited until Wang Tao would sit on the stern bench, and then he said: "Mister Turner had come back from Port Royal, with fresh news about Captain Sparrow's whereabouts. The unnamed gentleman you've spotted during Jack's arrest has ordered Commander Chambers to transfer the prisoners from the city's jail to an inexpugnable fortress, so they would suffer greatly from imprisonment before their execution."

"That is a disgraceful action unworthy of a noble man, if I am allowed to say so!"

"Quite, but our mysterious foe has unknowingly served our purposes: this fortress is actually a pontoon, named the _H.M.S. Justice_."

A light suddenly shone in Wang Tao's Indian-ink irises: "A pontoon, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel?"

"Exactly."

"_Yŏuqù de! _(Interesting!). And would I dare being impertinent enough to presume this kind of contraption is of a nature compatible with the extraordinary powers bestowed on you as herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor?"

"You've presumed right, Mister Wang Tao. I can step foot on this pontoon because it is floating on the sea, at a short distance from Port Royal's harbor."

The Chinese had a cunning smile.

"_Jian feng zhuang duo_ (See the wind, turn the rudder). Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, I daresay we are back in business!"

"That's right, Mister Wang Tao. Unfortunately, we have to leave this creek very soon to avoid being spotted. The last thing we need now is a passer-by raising the alarm at Port Royal, babbling about the presence of a notorious ghost ship nearby the city. We will sail off Jamaica during the day, and then we will drop the anchor back here at sunset. I have a plan but if it is to succeed, I must ask you to go to town again, under cover of darkness to find a few items."

"My ridiculous person is yours to command, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, and I am honored you have considered using my feeble spying talents in your great project to deliver Lord Captain Sparrow from his putrid prison. May I humbly ask you which items do you wish me to retrieve once the beauteous Chang'e, goddess of the moon, will grace the sky again?"

"First of all, I'd like you to pay a visit to your compatriot Huang Ming. I remember you mentioning he owns a tailoring shop?"

TBC…


	7. By a moonlight shadow

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Aesop (620-560 BC) was a slave living in ancient Greece, extremely gifted in giving speeches. He used fables, satire and sarcasm for his arguments and he was even allowed to conduct public defenses.

- I saw leafy sea dragons and weedy sea dragons at the Georgia Aquarium of Atlanta last summer and I fell in love with those creatures. I couldn't resist using them in my story!

- Wang Tao's proverb comes from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter ****7: By a moonlight shadow**

_Aboard the H.M.S. Jersey…_

"YO-HO, YO-HO, A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR ME!"

"**Will yu shut up?"** roared the exasperated Maggot, his blood-shot eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

"Tsk! That's no way to talk to a Captain! I should have you locked up in the brig but since you are already jailed, I'd like to thank our guardians for their admirable initiative," said Captain Jack Sparrow while trying to stretch his legs inside the narrow box that served as his cell.

"Goddamyu to Hell! Yu'll feel less cocky once yur tongue dries inside yur big mouth. Yu may call yurself a smarty, Sparrow, but when the noose will be tightened 'round yur neck, yu won't be able ta talk yur way out of it!"

"Oh? Says who?"

"Says **me**!" yelled The Maggot while emphatically banging his fist against the bars of his hutch. The man's clothes were saturated with filth and he smelled like he hadn't bathed in a year, adding his personal touch to the brig's polluted atmosphere.

"Tsk! How can anyone believe the words of a worm? Besides, who has ever heard of a slimy, withering, fattish creature gifted with the ability to talk? Never this feat has been witnessed or recorded through all mankind's history; consequently I can only consider the vaguely-audible gibberish coming from the box next to mine as an aural hallucination provoked by my current rum withdrawal, that's the only logical explanation!"

"Why, yu little… Wait 'til that prissy gentleman comes ta see yu!"

"Begging your pardon, degenerate invertebrate?"

"I am talkin' abbat the high-and-mighty who has gotten yu thrown into that hole, Sparrow! Yu were drunk as a lord at the time when the soldiers locked yu up inthat box, but I've heard them talkin' before they left about yu gettin' a visitor soon, the same rich bastard who had trapped me here inna first place. He's gonna see yu in yur birdcage to spit in yur face!"

"Well, at least it will refresh my incredibly-handsome features a little," replied Jack, mopping his sweating brow with his shirt's sleeve. He felt like he had been thrown into the Devil's cauldron!

The light coming from the dirty lantern was so feeble, it looked like its flickering flame from the candle tucked inside was going to die any minute. The temperature in the _H.M.S. Jersey_'s brig was nearly unbearable and the pirate captain was in danger to die of dehydration before the hangman would have an opportunity to do his job. Apart from headaches, hangovers' main drawback was making your throat feeling as dry and barren as Davy Jones' heart, and even the perspective of drinking a tasteless liquid like water could tempt the most hardened rum expert. The air was so thick, Jack could feel it weighting on his narrow shoulders like a yoke made of lead – not to mention the pestilential odors that reigned inside the holding room. A slaughterhouse would have smelled better, or even an open graveyard! This combination of corrupted air, elevated temperatures and almost-complete darkness would have been enough to drive any man to despair but Jack's unknown enemy had clearly wanted to increase his torments with water deprivation, the narrow cell and the company of The Maggot.

Jack knew he could fool The Maggot or the soldiers with his complex wordplay, but he needed rum to outwit the unnamed gentleman and his minion, Commander Chambers. Oh yes, he had to get some soon! But how could he "persuade" the guards to bring him a flagon? When he had been pulled out of his Port Royal's prison cell, Jack had clearly heard Private Tobias getting an earful about the prisoner's drunkenness and how letting himself being corrupted would cost the soldier dearly. No doubts the guards on duty aboard the _H.M.S. Jersey_ have received strict orders after the scandal in town, so hopes for bribing someone were pretty slim.

The _H.M.S. Jersey_ was, without any doubt, the absolute Hell for a seasoned sailor: no air, no sun, a talking maggot and no rum. Bugger!

"Yes, he's gonna refresh yu all right – wif yur blood!" cackled The Maggot with a sadistic smile on his face but his eyes were darting nervously at every corner, as if he feared Jack's nemesis would come any minute. "He'll come here ta beat ya within an inch of yur life, and ya won't be able ta do anythin' ta prevent it 'cause yu won't be able ta move in yur cage! From whatta heard from these snot-nosed soldiers, this gentleman isn't a guy to be taken lightly and he can make swashbuckler Chambers tremble in his boots!"

"It appears you and Chambers have a lot in common, then. Who would have thought it?"

"**I'm gonna rip yur head off!**" yelled the skinny man.

"I find that hard to believe: in the hypothesis that you would find enough ideas inside you pea-sized brains to actually find a way to open your cell's door and then managed to unlock my cell's door to concretize your threat, you will realize rather quickly that in order to separate my head from my shoulders by sheer force, you'll need abundant muscle strength – which you don't have, judging from your skeletal frame. There is also the high probability that, as soon as my door would be opened, I would seize the occasion to make a daring escape so fast it would make your head swim. And thirdly, in a most improbable and hideous twist of fate where you would actually succeed in shortening my life span and my anatomy, there is also the fact that the mysterious wig-bearing gentleman wouldn't appreciate your actions since it is hard to hang by the neck a decapitated corpse, so you'd have to face his wrath stirred up by disappointment and it could mean painful consequences upon your person. Savvy?"

The Maggot snarled in disgust and his eyes were full of venom but somehow, Jack's words seemed to have casted a light within his malevolent mind. The mere mention of Chambers' patron had calmed him down, since the worm-named pirate was also curious and eager to learn who the identity of the bigwig responsible for their current predicament was.

"Fine talkin', Sparrow, but like ah said, it won't help yu! Whatever kinds of chitchat yu think of servin' the man, that won't stop him from hangin' yu."

"That's where you are wrong, sea worm. You see, I have been gifted with the ability to choose words with an extreme finesse, just like a jeweler knows how to pick up the best gems to create splendid sparkling artworks which are later found around the neck of rich ladies, much to the despair of their husbands' bank accounts. My sharp intellect and my legendary verbal fluency have worked in perfect harmony since birth, giving me an unsurpassed talent as an orator - and I have proved it a hundredfold. So why should I suddenly suffer from a bad case of cold feet in front of this gentleman, simply because he happens to be mysterious and anonymous?"

"Son of a pig!"

"I prefer the term _"Son of Aesop"_ since he's my spiritual father, but it's personal."

"Oh, yeah? As if yur whorin' mommy had been sober enough to make the difference between _"Alley-op"_ and a pig! Anyway, whatta yu gonna tell the rich bastard so he won't break every bone of yur body, Sparrow son-of-whoever?"

"What am I going to tell to our wealthy captor? Oh, well, since the potential subjects are so numerous, how about talking about… weedy sea dragons?"

"WHAT?!"

"Yes, let's talk about the weedy sea dragons and their friendly neighbors, the leafy sea dragons. How beautiful those creatures are! They are so delicate, so frail-looking and yet very graceful when they swim amongst the abundant sea grass meadows. Those animals have clearly mastered the art of camouflage since their bodies are covered with appendages making a lifelike imitation of leaves and sea weeds. This marvelous mimic, able to change the colors of its body at will, can fool its predators like fishes, crustaceans and sea anemones. The weedy sea dragons live peaceful lives in rocky reefs, looking for food that they catch with their long pipe-like snout…"

"What the Hell are yu babbling about? Yu've gone bonkers!"

"Tsk! It is clearly a waste of my time trying to clean up your guano-infested cerebellum! Which just proves your stupendous stupidity, Maggot Man: not only you are unable to understand a single word uttered by the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow, but you miss an opportunity to acquire an apology for an education by refusing to listen to my vast knowledge!"

"Yu're a goner and a loony! Now shaddap and lemme sleep!" grumbled The Maggot, lying down in his hutch and turning his back at the pirate captain as best as he could.

Jack sighed heavily; his smelly cellmate had finally ended his taunts, so now he could concentrate on the matter at hand, namely getting out of the pontoon! But alas, his hangover and The Maggot had prevented him to think about an escape plan so far, and it wouldn't be long before the giant worm would start talking again.

The pirate captain moved slightly and the chain linking the manacles around his wrists chimed, playing a lugubrious music to his sensible ears. He had terrible cramps in his back, legs and shoulders from being held inside the narrow box for too many hours, and he was thirsty… so thirsty it was getting maddening! Jack was a bit insane – that was a well-known fact – and yet, he wasn't looking forward to see his touch of mental illness increasing to the point where he would be unable to utter a word or make a clever escape. Captain Jack Sparrow's brains turning into jellyfish _purée_? Not that would be quite a loss for humanity!

He sighed again and rested his precious head on his knees, trying to forget the paralyzing pain in his spinal column. A plan, he needed a plan… but his clever mind could only provide images of weedy sea dragons, swimming aimlessly in blue waters. Those creatures weren't a figment of his imagination: years ago, his business with Sao Feng had finished abruptly – even though it had been nothing but a huge misunderstanding – and Jack had found himself sailing close to the southern coastline of Australia. Then, an unexpected tempest had damaged the _Black Pearl_ and they had dropped the anchor nearby a beach to make repairs. A tribe of Aboriginals people living in the area had welcomed the pirates with open arms, giving them wood and food so they would continue their journey. Jack had even made some underwater exploration and it had been during those swims in the turquoise-colored sea that he had seen the weedy sea dragons and their leafy counterparts. Jack had never forgotten those marvelous creatures…

And now, as he was stuck into the mouth of Hell, those fishes were coming back inside his mind with a vengeance. How thinking about them could help Jack to find a plan?

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but to no avail: images of graceful sea dragons floating beneath the surface flashed under his eyelids… Quite noticeable creatures with their large, spectacular leaf-looking appendages and yet, they were able to blend perfectly with their vegetal surroundings to fool predators.

"Camouflage", whispered Jack, just before falling asleep.

* * *

_City of Port Royal, night…_

As silent and flexible as a cat, Wang Tao was quickly finding his way through the shadows of Port Royal's alleys. Lord Captain Turner, the Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, had been generous enough to entrust him with a mission and the Chinese was resolute to accomplish it.

Lord Captain Sparrow's capture had been a bitter blow for Wang Tao – since he was still convinced that he had been spotted during his first visit in this town – and he somehow considered his reputation as a spy had been tarnished. If the same event had happened in China, the Red Dragon Clan's elders wouldn't have bothered listening to his explanations and they would have sent him on cleaning duties in the most miserable bathhouse of Singapore, disgraced for life. But Lord Captain Turner had said Wang Tao's participation would be indispensable for his plan to succeed. Astonished by this incredible opportunity to redeem himself the Chinaman had accepted his new mission in Port Royal on the spot, not at all bothered by potential dangers. To think he was actually carrying on a mission for the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor… how many spies in China could pretend to have done the same?

Entirely clad in black, a mask covering his face, his pace as silent as a feather falling on velvet, Wang Tao was nearly invisible. The goddess Chang'e had answered his silent prayers as she had deigned hiding her silver face under a veil of thick, dark clouds. Most of the street lanterns had been broken and a foul odor coming from the sewers would discourage good and honest citizens to take a night stroll. Of course, there was still the risk of being detected by drunks, prostitutes, beggars and soldiers on patrol duty, but Wang Tao was a veteran in the information business so he knew how to avoid them. A few days ago, he would have thought that no one of those rum-imbibed wretches had a chance to spot him. But since Lord Captain Sparrow had been captured, Wang Tao had earned a lesson in humility and revised his judgment.

After an hour's cautious run through a maze of alleys that had included climbing on brick walls and sheds, the Chinaman finally reached his destination: the tailoring shop of his compatriot Huang Ming. It was painted in black and the articles on show in the window varied from lengths of cloth to engraved pictures of costumes. A huge pair of scissors served as a sign and ideograms have been painted in gold next to the front door, with an English translation below: _"Huang Ming, supplier of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of China."_

Wang Tao shook his head at the sight of this lying caption: Huang Ming was a talented clothes-maker, but he wouldn't have been granted the favor to even approach the Forbidden City! Well, he supposed exaggeration was somehow an integral part of the trading business. Shrugging, the spy crossed the street in a flash, and then he ducked inside an alley to reach the back door of Huang Ming's shop. His gloved hand reached inside his black tunic and got out a long, thin silver needle and he slipped it inside the lock. With a soft click, the pass key opened the door and Wang Tao stepped inside.

The shop was plunged into darkness, but the spy had been trained since childhood in developing his night vision and he could easily make out the contours of the furniture that could be usually found at a tailor's: tables, shelves loaded with rolls of cloth, a large bronze mirror, stuffed armchairs for the customers and a narrow staircase heading for the house's upper floor. Wang Tao glanced around and his eyes lightened above the mask covering his face after he had spotted a dummy standing in a corner.

When he had purchased his clothes in this very shop a few days ago, it hadn't escaped his attention that Huang Ming had been managing a successful business in Port Royal. The tailor had been entrusted by the local nobles to sew their clothes, and the dummy was displaying a costume worthy to be worn by an aristocrat. In spite of the darkness, Wang Tao could see the outfit was complete: cutaway coat, waistcoat, breeches, shirt with lace at the cuffs, neckwear, stockings, all this cut in the finest cloth. His compatriot even did the elaborated embroideries on the coat. The dummy's clothes were an evident proof of Huang Ming's talent as they could have been made for a governor!

"_I couldn't have dreamt to find better clothes for Lord Captain Turner, and they are just about his size. The mighty Cai Sheng, god of fortune, has smiled upon my insignificant person tonight!"_ thought Wang Tao.

Next to the dummy were shelves loaded with boxes of various sizes; Wang Tao took a peek inside those boxes and a rapid investigation confirmed that Huang Ming also provided his customers with buckle-fastened shoes and tricorn hats. Apparently, the tailor didn't want to miss an occasion to make himself indispensable to his rich clientele! But it suited the spy perfectly: Lord Captain Turner would be pleased after Wang Tao would bring him the complete costume of a nobleman.

He silently untied the bag strapped to his back, with the intention to rob the dummy of its beautiful garments, but then…

_A __noise outside the front door!_

As fast as lightening, the spy disappeared behind the counter, a dagger in his hand, ready to perforate the intruder who had been foolish enough to be inside the tailoring shop at the same time as Wang Tao. But then, he chose silence over committing murder after he had realized the racket was coming from a fist banging loudly against the door.

"Open up, damn your eyes!" roared a voice outside. Wang Tao's eyes widened in surprise: who could be making a call at a tailor's shop at this hour?

"I am coming, Milord!" answered a voice, and the hidden spy identified it at once. It was Huang Ming, who was clad in a long white nightshirt and running with a candlestick in hand, at the risk of missing his step and falling downstairs. However, the tailor managed to reach the ground floor without any incident and he rushed to unlatch the front door's locks. A towering man entered brusquely, almost knocking down Huang Ming in the process.

"Well, light up some lamps, man!" roared the visitor. "Do you think I want to speak to you in the dark?"

"At once, Milord," replied Huang Ming in an obsequious tone, making Wang Tao's feeling sick of disgust. He knew his compatriot wasn't the most courageous man of China but making niceties to a man rude enough to awaken you in middle of the night wasn't good business, but abject servility!

A paper lantern was lightened, making the spy worry about being discovered if Huang Ming obeyed the man's orders to the letter and decided to illuminate the whole shop. But a slap followed by a metallic sound bouncing on the shop's wooden floor made Wang Tao understand a tinder box had been slapped away from the tailor's hand.

"All right already! You should really learn to shake a leg. Now listen to me, Mister Ming: in two days there will be a mass hanging in Port Royal where all the enemies of the British Crown will be executed to the last man. This hanging will be a demonstration of my superiority over feeble-minded citizens and soldiers infesting this city so I'm warning you: you have until tomorrow night to finish my costume."

"Yes, Milord. You can count on me, Milord. Your costume will be ready, Milord."

"I want to be dressed in my best, do you hear me? **My best!**"

Getting more and more intrigued by this turn of events, Wang Tao decided to take a look at the scene. Who in the world could be this pretentious and irascible man? He moved his head slightly so he could see from behind the counter… and his breathing stopped as his surprised mind recognized the brutal customer.

"_T__he Dragon-King!"_

Wang Tao could hardly believe his eyes: the gentleman he had spotted talking harshly to Commander Chambers, the night Lord Captain Sparrow had been captured, was standing right in the middle of the tailoring shop!

Even though it was folly, Wang Tao took the risk to look at the middle-aged man again, to make sure he hadn't been hallucinating. But his eyes confirmed to his brains that the wealthy man yelling at his compatriot was indeed the same mastermind responsible for the seizing of the _Black Pearl II_. The lightened paper lantern was casting a yellowish glow and Wang Tao could see the tall gentleman's features: about in his mid-fifties, a large face, a very strong chin, a disdainful mouth and eyes as hard as blue ice.

"_The Dragon-King… The Dragon-King is here!"_ thought the Chinaman over and over again after he had disappeared again behind the counter, his heart beating wildly against his ribs.

What an incredible coincidence! Lord Captain Sparrow's enemy was in a tailoring shop in the middle of the night, barking instructions about a costume he wanted to wear at the occasion of a mass hanging, all this right under the nose of Lord Captain Turner's spy! It made it twice Wang Tao had seen him while hiding in the shadows – but this time, he had seen the nobleman's face. He would be able to recognize him in the future, an undeniable advantage. Wang Tao couldn't decide if he should thank the god of fortune or pray Zhong Kui, vanquisher of ghosts and evil beings, so the deity would strike down the mysterious gentleman on the spot.

Fortunately, his training provided him with the answer: Commander Chamber's boss was standing just a few feet from Wang Tao's hiding place and he was in a foul mood, obviously – meaning the Dragon-King wouldn't keep his voice low. Smiling thinly, the spy settled down behind the counter and waited patiently for the angered man to blurt out some information that could be useful for Lord Captain Turner.

"Is it my costume you've displayed on that dummy?" roared the grey-haired gentleman.

"Oh no, Milord!" answered Huang Ming quickly. "This one is for the Honorable Righteous Lord Judge Carr (the Dragon-King snorted in derision). Your costume is upstairs, in my private quarters because I didn't want any prying eyes to see its magnificence. But I can guarantee you will be a picture of utmost elegance once you will deign wearing it."

"For your sake, I hope so. The mass hanging will be held in Port Royal's main marketplace and it will be a splendid show of how justice is carried in a British colony. That mongrel Chambers has cleaned the streets today of every man, woman and child related with pirates; all the prisoners are now locked up inside the _H.M.S. Justice_, waiting for their rightful punishment and their executions will be an example to everyone who would be tempted to mix with sea scoundrels. Chambers had whined about arresting females and their runts would make us unpopular, but a few strikes of the whip have been enough to make him obey my orders: he's so worried about his captaincy, the bloody fool, he would have jailed his own mother if I had told him to do so!"

"Women and children, Milord?"

"That's right! I will show no leniency, neither towards pirate whores nor their Devil-spawned brats. Scum they are, all of them! The only thing they deserve is the rope, and it's too bad torture isn't allowed anymore; I wouldn't have minded keeping the prisoners alive for an extra week or so to give them a taste of the iron maiden. But this execution will haunt the memory of Port Royal's citizens for years to come: first the guttersnipes will be hanged, followed by the women, the men who had been accomplices of pirates, all the _Black Pearl II_'s crewmembers. Ah, it will be a thrill to hear those necks breaking, one after another. A sweet music to my ears! The last one to die will be Captain Sparrow, and his death will be celebrated by a huge firework!"

"Oh, what a splendid idea, Milord!" said Huang Ming. "I happen to love fireworks; they remind me so much of my country!"

"You won't forget that one anytime, trust me. But if you are one hour late in delivering my costume tomorrow night, you will be hanged alongside the prisoners, do you hear!"

"I… your outfit will be ready, Milord," said the tailor with a small gasp. "Should I deliver it at your house, or will you send your servant?"

"I wouldn't entrust that imbecilic Humph with a barrowful of horse dung. So do you think I would send him fetch my costume?"

"N-No, Milord! I will be standing at the doorstep of your impressive house at sunset tomorrow. And I can guarantee you the smallest adjustment won't even be necessary since your costume will fit you like a glove."

"Make sure it will do! I don't have time to waste with people of your kind, Mister Huang Ming. Learn your proper place!"

And with another loud bang of the front door, the gentleman stormed out of the shop. Wang Tao heard a long sigh of relief and the metallic sound of locks being put back in place. The lantern was extinguished with a blow of air, plunging the shop into darkness again, and then Huang Ming whispered:

"_Xiōngshŏu, zìfù de, wĕijūnzĭ báichī!_ (Murderer, vain, hypocrite fool!)," and then the tailor climbed up the stairs, heading for his bed in the hopes of resuming his interrupted slumber. After a few minutes where walking could be heard on the upper floor, all was quiet again inside the tailoring shop.

Wang Tao had a hard time repressing a chuckle from coming out of his lips. The gentleman he had nicknamed _"The Dragon-King"_ was so full of his importance, he thought insulting his inferiors was the infallible way to keep them under his thumb. Chambers, the soldiers guarding Port Royal, Huang Ming, even a servant named _"Humph"_ were apparently all quaking in their shoes at the mere sight of their employer. Terror and surveillance have been tyrants' favorite tools for centuries and yet, these self-proclaimed masters of the world could never remember important lessons from the past – namely, that the most powerful beings could be harmed by the things they controlled. How many tyrants had seen their life spans shortened because they had overlooked that fact!

"_Dà shuichōng le lóngwàngmiào_ (The Dragon-King's temple is flooded)" thought Wang Tao, quoting a proverb from his home country. The Dragon-King was a mystical animal venerated like a rain god, since it was believed to command to the waters. But sometimes, even this creature could be overtaken by events and its temple got flooded by the same waters he was supposed to control, quite an ironic situation!

And this gentleman had made two dangerous mistakes: he was overconfident in his powers, and he had dared to capture Lord Captain Sparrow.

Wang Tao got out from behind the counter, and he turned over the dummy displaying the costume made for Judge Benedict Carr. This outfit was definitively the one needed for Lord Captain Turner's plan to work… and the city of Port Royal would learn how the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor had vanquished the would-be Dragon-King!

TBC…


	8. The spy with velvet paws

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Details about opium tincture come from a medical book.

- Wang Tao's proverb is from Wikipedia.

- The _"Sesame" _Bill refers to comes from the tale_ "Ali Baba and the forty thieves" _which is part of the_ "One thousand and One Nights" _book: woodcutter Ali Baba spots a group of forty thieves hiding their treasure in a cave, which mouth can only be opened by saying the magic formula _"Open, Sesame"_. Later, this word became a synonym for _"permit"_.

* * *

**Chapter ****8: The spy with velvet paws**

_Aboard the __Flying Dutchman…_

"Mister Wang Tao is coming back, Captain!" exclaimed Bill Turner, his keen eyes spotting something moving on the ink-like water. The full moon was still hidden behind the clouds and, with the _Flying Dutchman _under the strict order to keep all lanterns extinguished, it would have been impossible for a man to see what was happening in the area – but not to old sea dog Bootstrap Bill.

"At last!" whispered Will.

The _Flying Dutchman_ was anchored again in the creek, hiding from prying eyes and the shipmates had been waiting all night for the spy to come back from his mission. Even though his features had never betrayed his inner conflict, Will had been genuinely concerned about the Chinaman's safety. Wang Tao had played an important part in rescuing him from Red Hand Pete's clutches, four years ago, and it wouldn't have suited Will very well if the spy had been thrown into the middle of danger as a reward. But thankfully, it seemed that the man had managed to sneak his way through Port Royal's streets without trouble. Two sailors had been waiting for their Captain's guest in a longboat, floating nearby the beach and they were rowing towards the _Flying Dutchman_ at all speed. Wang Tao was calmly seated on one of the longboat's benches, looking unhurt and holding a carefully-wrapped package on his knees.

"Guess you'll want to have a conversation with our ally right away, son?" said Bill under his breath.

"You've guessed right, Papa," answered Will with the same tone. "If Wang Tao has failed to bring the items I have asked him to find, then my plan will be doomed and we won't have a chance to save Jack any more."

Bill let out a small chuckle: "Judging from the smug smile on his face, I daresay you have nothing to worry about!"

The longboat was quickly drawn alongside the _Dutchman_'s hull, and the two sailors secured the oars before climbing at the rope ladders while Wang Tao remained seated with a somewhat regretful look on his face. No doubts he would have loved to step on the main deck of the ghost ship out of curiosity, to see how it felt to walk on the Soul Vessel's planks, but he already knew by reputation that only crewmembers and soul passengers were allowed aboard.

"Papa, we'll have to haul the longboat on its support again, meaning Mister Wang Tao will have to move. Would you please ask the men to bring his dinghy closer?"

"At once, son."

While Bootstrap barked the orders, Will closed his eye and "materialized" himself on a longboat's bench, right in front of the Chinaman who jumped in surprise. The Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ sure knew how to make dramatic entrances!

"I am glad to see you're safe and sound, Mister Wang Tao."

"A thousand thanks for your concern, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel, but being a subject of worry is above my condition and…"

"I beg to differ," interrupted Will with a firm tone of voice. "And call me Captain Turner, will you?"

This time, the spy looked completely dumbfounded!

"My miserable person wouldn't even dream to dare addressing in such a familiar fashion the herald of the Peace Absolving, Central August Spirit Exalted, Ancient Buddha, Most Pious and Honorable, His Highness the Jade Emperor, Xuanling High Sovereign, monarch of all deities in heaven!"

"Please, Mister Wang Tao?"

Wang Tao looked absolutely puzzled by Will's request. He considered having pushed his luck far too much recently by begging for the ghost ship's help to rescue Lord Captain Sparrow! But a discreet cough from the elder Turner, who was watching the whole scene from the main deck, reminded the Chinese that time was running out and besides, it wasn't his place to argue over demands made by the Guide of the Ghosts.

"Ahem! Very well, Most Honor… I mean, Lord Captain Turner. Please accept my humble apologies and my most grateful thanks for allowing me to call you by a shorter, but still glorious, title. I came back in full velocity to make a report about my recent excursion in Port Royal and I have the effrontery to proudly announce that I have succeeded in finding the items you've asked for: you will find a complete outfit tucked inside this bundle," said the small man while bowing his head and presenting the parcel which had been resting on his knees.

A beautiful smile graced Will's lips as he accepted the package: he had his costume! The most important part of his plan, namely gaining a gentleman's appearance, was achieved! He would be able to step on the _H.M.S. Justice_'s main deck looking like a member of nobility instead of a man who had been at sea for nine years in a row.

"Thank you very much, Mister Wang Tao. I wouldn't have been able to do anything for Jack without your help."

"At the risk of appearing insufferably pretentious, Lord Captain Turner, I have to admit your approbation is a priceless compliment. It also gives me a tiny shard of light in the hope of regaining my honor as a spy after my recent and spectacular failure, which has led to the capture of the _Black Pearl II_. The god of fortune has indeed deigned to grant me his favor tonight: while I was poking around in the tailoring shop, I had the incredible luck to overhear a conversation between Huang Ming, the creator of your costume, and Lord Captain Sparrow's foe."

"What? You… Do you mean to say you saw the gentleman who is Commander Chambers' boss?"

"Quite so, Lord Captain Turner, and I have even managed to see his face: he is about fifty, with a ridiculously preeminent chin and eyes as cold as ice. His lips are pressed so tightly against each other, it is a wonder he can talk – but somehow he has managed to find a way because, every time he opens his rotten mouth, it is to talk to people in a very clear and insulting manner. He's obviously in love with the pseudo-authority he has gained with money, instead of with personal qualities. He obviously thinks he has absolute control over his universe but the truth is, he behaves an old water buffalo: stupid and wicked. Alas, I haven't been able to learn his name, so I have nicknamed him _"The Dragon-King"_ from the water-controlling creature which is unable, however, to prevent its own temple to be flooded at times."

"And what did that Dragon-King wanted from your compatriot?"

"This would-be gentleman, on top of being cruel and arrogant, is also extremely vain: he noisily came to the shop, without any regards for the night's peacefulness, all this to remind Huang Ming that a beautiful costume he has ordered a few days ago must be ready for Lord Captain Sparrow's hanging. However, in his fury the Dragon-King let out important information that may interfere with your plan: by his direct order, _zhĭhuī guān_(Commander) Chambers has arrested many persons in town, and these prisoners are now held inside the _H.M.S. Jersey_ as well. Amongst the captured are men, women… and also children. All of them will be sent to the gallows under charges of piracy."

William Turner felt his blood boiling inside his veins. The Dragon-King had organized a mass hanging! The same atrocity had been perpetrated before in Port Royal during Beckett's reign and no one, not even Governor Swann, had been able to prevent it. Will had been unaware of this massacre since he was staying in Singapore with Elizabeth and Hector Barbossa at the same time, trying to steal Sao Feng's navigational charts. But after he had become Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, Will had found the souls of Beckett's victims floating on the surface of the sea – their executioners hadn't bothered to dig graves: it had been more convenient to commit the corpses to the ocean – and he had learned their sad story after welcoming them aboard the ghost ship.

The soul of a twelve-year-old boy had told him about how he had been chained and hanged like a criminal, and him singing _"Hoist the colors"_ so he would have the desperate courage to face the noose. Will had been revolted, horrified and he had bitterly regretted to not have been present during that mass hanging. How he had wished he had remained nearby Port Royal; he would have found a way to save those innocents from Beckett! His father had tried to console him, like in pointing out that Will had been on his own quest – namely finding Jack and saving Bill – and Beckett was the holder of Davy Jones' dirty heart, giving him the power to rule over the Seven Seas but Will had still felt terrible, even weeks after those wretched souls had been ferried safely to the Other Side.

Will sighed as he remembered his father's soft words of comfort, one day where the sadness had been too heavy for the young man to bear: _"The sorrow you feel proves that you don't need a heart inside your chest to love, son. Your captaincy hasn't changed you: you are still a compassionate, caring, altruist young man who would risk life and limb to do what is right, and how many men on Earth can pretend the same? You are a hero, Will, that's why you can't stand injustice and Heaven knows how rare this kind of person is. Of course, there will always be some imbeciles around who would laugh out loud and say that heroes are just fools who should have minded their own business. Then why is their souvenir perpetuated for centuries, pray tell? Ordinary men are forgotten, heroes are remembered. And if you want to cry, Will, do it because there is no shame in your tears. Angels have wept on the day that little boy's neck was snapped in two by Beckett's evilness."_ And Will had cried until he had fallen asleep in his father's arms, overwhelmed by the unfairness of those deaths. His soul-ferry duty had been easier to endure afterwards, thanks to Bill's endless support.

History was repeating itself through Wang Tao's words: captured men, women and children would be sent to the gallows because of their more-or-less known association with pirates. But this time William Turner Junior was sailing in the Caribbean Sea so he had a chance to rescue those innocents. But how could it be done? Until recently, he had made a plan to save only Jack and his crew, which had meant a total of forty men or so. Adjustments had to be done to his paln: there was a huge difference between making forty pirates escape the _H.M.S. Justice_ and fleeing with a crowd of scared men, women and children who didn't have a clue of what was going on!

"I won't let that gentleman do an _Encore_ of Beckett's devilish actions, Mister Wang Tao," said Will. "I admit the presence of these new prisoners aboard the pontoon complicates the matter, and yet I refuse to abandon them."

"That is just what I thought the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor would do," replied the Chinese gravely. "The Dragon-King's arrogance must be punished and there would be no better way to humiliate him in front of the citizens of Port Royal than snatching all his prisoners right under his snout – and to the last child. He wants a mass hanging, but he'll get a mass prison break instead!"

"I still plan to invade the _H.M.S. Justice_ and use the _Flying Dutchman_ as backup," said Will. "But how are we going to get out of the pontoon's brig and pass through the guards with a crowd of prisoners, without engaging battle? We don't know how many men, women and children Commander Chambers have arrested, so let's imagine their number to be about two hundred: adding Jack and his crewmembers, that makes a total of almost two hundred and fifty persons to free in a single move. They will certainly make some noise once they will be freed from the holds – a baby can start wailing, for example, and it could alert the Royal Marines guarding the pontoon. I don't think the soldiers would accept to let us go, simply in the name of humanity!"

"There is a high possibility that they won't listen to such a reasonable request, and in their stupidity they could even try to stop you regardless of painful consequences upon their insignificant existences. This is why I would like to seize the occasion to present you with another item I had the chance to find on a shelf, inside Huang Ming's shop…"

Wang Tao slipped his hand inside his black silk tunic and took out a small jar made of white porcelain, adorned with blue patterns representing birds flying over a mountain. He presented it to Will and the surprised young man took the little vase, inwardly thinking the Chinese must be as sure-footed as a cat to steal all those things from his compatriot without making a sound. He took out the jar's lid to see it contained a dark-colored liquid, smelling of saffron, clove and alcohol.

"What is this?"

"This is opium tincture, Lord Captain Turner. It is made from the poppy flower and it is used in China as a painkiller – usually for toothaches – and a narcotic. It seems that Huang Ming also uses this drug to gain dreamless sleep. I personally never touch this stuff, since overuse can bring a person into a stupor and being caught unaware means immediate death in the spying business. But I figured this opium tincture could become useful, in the lines of pouring it in the soldiers' chow to make them fall into an appropriate slumber, providing us with the needed silence required in our rescue of Lord Captain Sparrow."

The young Turner thought about Wang Tao's proposition long and hard. Although his chivalrous nature didn't agree with using a drug to overpower enemies, he had to admit that removing a few obstacles from Jack's road to freedom was a tempting idea. Making guards sleep instead of attacking them with swords and knives was a more peaceful and discreet way as the sounds of a struggle aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_ would inevitably raise the alarm in Port Royal's harbor. And there was also the matter of the added prisoners, especially the children who would be too frightened to keep silent. He sighed, and then he said:

"Very well, Mister Wang Tao. Once we'll step on the _Justice_'s main deck, we will find a way to make the Marines drink this opium tincture. But please be cautious with the dosage, as I really don't want them to become poisoned by this drug."

"I shall make myself worthy of your confidence, Lord Captain Turner, and be assured that your generosity towards enemies will be praised across China as long as there will be an ocean. I am honored that you find my suggestion to be a valuable one."

"You'll have to go back aboard your dinghy before the longboat is hauled back to its support. We will leave this creek at dawn to sail off the coast of Port Royal once again, but tomorrow night we will take action and rescue Jack, his men and the victims of the hateful and hated old gentleman," said Will. "If everything goes as planned, by next dawn we will be sailing aboard the _Black Pearl II_, heading for the high seas while our enemies will still be wondering about the mysterious disappearance of the prisoners held aboard the pontoon."

"And the Dragon-King will loose face forever! His money will never be enough to regain his mockery of authority, and his minions will torch down his house before scampering away in all directions, like a flock of spooked birds. _"__Shù d__ǎ__o hú sūn sàn"_: when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. May Guan Yu, god of brotherhood and martial power, grant you his help in your plan and your actions!"

Will had a small smile at the Chinaman's declaration: "Thanks, Mister Wang Tao. In the meantime, you'd better get some rest as the next night will be busy, very busy. And thank you again for finding this costume."

With those parting words, Will vanished from the longboat to appear on the _Dutchman_'s main deck, holding the large package in his arms. He opened his eyes to see his father smiling gently at him.

"So, Wang Tao has been successful in his "shopping", Captain?" asked the burly-shaped man with an ironic voice.

"He certainly has, Mister Turner," answered Will. "But he has also brought some fresh news that is going to change our plans."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"Mister Wang Tao has overheard our mysterious foe talking about a massive arrest he had asked Commander Chambers to conduct: apparently, numerous men, women and children have been captured and locked up in the _H.M.S. Justice_, waiting to be hanged alongside Jack and his men."

"That's awful!" exclaimed Bootstrap Bill, his face palling at the recollection of the sad crowd they had ferried to the Other Side, years ago, and how deeply it had affected his son. "This rascal wants to mimic Beckett's parody of the law!"

"Exactly, Mister Turner, but we won't let this happen. My goal to rescue Jack and his crew now also includes the people this unknown gentleman wants to execute. I swear that he will never enjoy the sight of his prisoners singing _"Hoist the colors" _while walking to the gallows, unlike Beckett did."

Bill Turner looked at his Captain's resolute face, and he knew Will wouldn't back down from the enormity of the task. No matter if there was one, or fifty, or a thousand persons held aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_, his son would unconditionally rescue them. Will had succeeded in freeing all the _Dutchman_'s crewmembers from Davy Jones' tyranny in the past, so why wouldn't he try to save all the pontoon's prisoners?

"Do you still wish to climb aboard the _Justice_, son?" whispered the elder Turner.

"Aye. I'll have to try this outfit to make sure that it will deceive the men guarding the pontoon long enough, so I will reach its holds without mishap. Of course, according to society's rules soldiers are not supposed to question a gentleman. I remember when Beckett arrested Elizabeth and me just before our wedding: he granted me permission to visit Elizabeth in jail and Governor Swann came with me. A guard named Carruthers tried to stop us, but a few chosen words from my father-in-law stopped him short. Time will be a factor during my stay aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_ and I don't want to be delayed by a curious Marine, so I hope this new costume will be impressive enough to let me pass. On my way back from the hold, the guards' presence won't matter because Mister Wang Tao has found a way to make them sleep: he will pour a narcotic in their stew, allowing us to exit the pontoon without raising the alarm."

A strange light danced in Bootstrap Bill's blue eyes, and he quietly said:

"It could work, my Little One, but I'm thinking about something that would be failure-proof in allowing you to step aboard the _Justice_ without raising questions. I'm not concerned about soldiers; they are usually a bunch of blind-obedient idiots who don't give a damn about what is going on, as long as they have enough money to drink and hire flesh. But what if there is an officer aboard the pontoon, like a Lieutenant or a Lieutenant-Commander, the night you go there to rescue Jack? That is a possibility to consider seriously. Officers are educated men and therefore, they are not easily fooled; wearing a gentleman-like costume wouldn't be enough to act as "_Sesame"_ and let you in."

"What do you suggest then, Papa?"

"Carrying a letter of authorization with you would do the trick, son. That's a signed and sealed document from Port Royal's Harbormaster and no Navy officers would try to contest it since the docks are, strictly speaking, under his jurisdiction. As the King's representative, only he has the right to allow ships to tie up at the docks, how many boxes of merchandise can be unloaded and, in case of pontoons, only he can authorize a civilian person to visit those floating prisons."

"But how are we going to convince Port Royal's Harbormaster to sign this letter?"

"With a substantial bribe."

Will's chocolate-colored eyes shone like stars as he understood what his father was referring to: the diamonds he had acquired over the years! Bill was keeping them in a box which was hidden inside his own cabin, since he had planned to give them to Will once he would be freed from his captaincy. But the gems were so numerous that Bootstrap could spare a couple to "buy" a letter of authorization from the Harbormaster, thus earning some extra protection for his son during the rescue mission.

"Papa, you're a genius!" exclaimed Will.

"Actually, I'm not," said Bill, blushing from the praise. "Jack had this idea when he was the Captain of the _Black Pearl_: a French ship full of gold, heavily guarded, was anchored in Saint Vincent's port and of course, that cunning rascal wanted to get his greedy hands on it. But instead of opening fire on the city as any normal pirate would do, Jack just paid the local Harbormaster – very generously – to get a letter of authorization and then, he climbed on the ship and told the soldiers a wild story about how he was sent by the French government. And then, he sent them all back to their barracks under the pretext that he needed some peace and quiet to count the gold bars! Needless to say, we had all the time of the world to load the treasure aboard the _Black Pearl_ and to leave Saint Vincent without firing a single shot."

Will laughed out loud at his father's tale, almost dropping Wang Tao's package on the _Dutchman_'s main deck.

"We're going to use one of Jack's tricks to get him out of jail!"

"It seems so, son," said Bootstrap Bill with a wink. "It seems so!"

TBC…


	9. Clothes do not make the man

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- The title comes from a quote by Henry Ward Beecher, Liberal US Congregational minister (1813 – 1887). The full quote is: _"Clothes and manners do not make the man; but, when he is made, they greatly improve his appearance."_

- I've made a little joke when inventing the Harbormaster's name: _"Ledroit"_ means _"Upright man"_ in French... while this character is quite greedy!

- This chapter contains references to one of my stories, _"A cry in the darkness"_.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Clothes do not make the man**

_Governor Swann's former mansion, the next night…_

"How do I look, Chambers?" asked the gray-haired gentleman.

The Commander would have laughed out loud if his Captain's insignias weren't at stake: his employer looked simply ridiculous!

Chambers had learn from Humphrey, the scared butler who had accompanied him earlier to the study, that his Master's tailor – a small Chinaman, named Ming – had appeared at exactly 6:00 p.m. on the doorstep to deliver a package and then, the older gentleman had locked himself up in his bedroom, eager to try on the outfit he wanted to wear at the occasion of Sparrow's hanging. Humphrey had dared to ask if his help was needed but all he got for an answer had been a harsh rebuke, in the lines of: _"I'll be senile before I'd allow a lackey to dress me, Humph!_", so the butler hadn't been able to tell Chambers anything about these new clothes his Master was making such a fuss about. All he knew was, it had to be treated as if it was a ceremonial costume and there would be Hell to pay if a spot or a wrinkle would ever appear on it before the executions.

So Chambers had been sitting inside the empty study, wondering what was taking his employer so long to get dressed and when would they start talking about serious business. It was late, the sun had disappeared behind the western horizon and he was bone tired from a long day of paperwork at Fort Charles. Any man in the Commander's shoes would have seized the occasion of being alone in the study to take a look at the gentleman's stack of papers on the desk or even poke around in the drawers, but Bartholomew Chambers wasn't courageous enough to take such an initiative. Fear had kept him glued to his armchair – as if his employer's eyes could see through walls and floors –, counting the minutes and fantasying about what he would do after he had gained his Captaincy and a brand-new ship, sailing away from Port Royal and its ghosts forever.

But then, the older gentleman had stepped inside the study in his new outfit, and Chambers had choked on his own saliva at the sight: the _"ceremonial costume" _was red like a rooster's crest! The cutaway coat, the waistcoat and the breeches had been cut from a crimson-colored cloth and enhanced with abundant gold embroideries, making such a violent contrast an observer could almost see the golden threads "moving" on the costume by a trick of the eye.

That alone would have make Chambers' boss look disgustingly ostentatious, but the other pieces of the outfit weren't faring better: the white silk shirt's cuffs had an overabundance of lace, which would have fitted a lady's dress but not a gentleman's attire. The neckwear was also scarlet, held by a gold pin in the shape of a wild boar's head with ruby-gems eyes, and the stockings displayed embroidered patterns looking like red flames on the legs' sides. Only the footwear and the hat were black but they couldn't save their wearer from ridicule: the buckle-fastened shoes were shining like dark mirrors and the tricorn hat sported a white feather almost as large as an ostrich's! However, the ultimate touch wasn't on the costume, but at the older man's left hand: a flamboyant aquamarine stone was shining on his ring finger.

"Well, Chambers? How do I look?" asked the gentleman, sounding a bit impatient this time.

"_Like an imbecile!"_ thought the Commander, amazed by this display of bad taste but he replied quickly: "Like a leader, Milord."

"Exactly, Chambers. Sometimes, you actually make sense! With this costume, everyone in Port Royal will know who is in charge, including boy-rapist Judge Carr and the badly-named Governor Laverty, who should have known better than accepting money from me... The funny part of is, some of his friends had warned him about me but after I've stuffed Laverty's pockets with gold, all their good advice fell on deaf ears. But when I found out who those overzealous friends are, just they wait!"

The gray-haired man gritted his teeth in a fury as visions of ruined reputations and disgraces flashed before his eyes. Chambers fidgeted nervously on his seat, getting worried by this apparent burst of anger but fortunately his boss changed his mind: instead of ranting and raving against unknown enemies, he decided to admire his reflection in a Venetian looking-glass almost taller than him.

"Ah, yes, Chambers... In this costume, everyone will know my power," said the man, parading around like a red peacock. "All the citizens of this backwater city will know I am the man responsible for the hangings, and that their very existences depend on my whim. Laverty and Carr are nothing but straw men, and no one will dare to stand on my way. You still think some people may protest about those executions, don't you, Chambers? Well, one look at me will be enough to make them realize who is in charge here. One by one, the pirates' voices and their sympathizers' will quiet down forever. I have a mission, and it's to clean the Caribbean once and for all from all pirates that had been festering in the sea for too many years."

"But.. You can't do that on your own, Milord! You'll need men to carry on your plans, and I can't give you my soldiers unless I receive direct orders from London."

"Your soldiers are nothing but a bunch of drunkards, Chambers! Do you honestly I would employ those good-for-nothing who wouldn't hit the side of a barn? If you sent them to Ireland, it would become a free country within a week. No, I need elite troops for my great scheme! An army composed of real soldiers with determination and full loyalty, who would lay down their lives in an instant for me – so it clearly rules you out. Lord Beckett had managed to get some real reinforcements when he conquered Port Royal, but he has made a mistake by trusting Admiral Norrington in keeping those troops under control. Norrington was an idiot, unable to see past his nose, that's probably why he got so easily overpowered. I won't do the same mistake: no one but me will lead first-class Royal Marines! But to acquire those men, I need to accomplish a brilliant feat: after I'll write those weak-minded simpletons from London about how I've hanged Sparrow, notorious pirate captain, along with his crewmembers and all his accomplices. They won't have any choice than to send the cream of the crop to Port Royal and place them under my strict authority."

Chambers digested his boss' sarcasms and tried to unclench his hand from the pommel of his sword, but it was getting more and more difficult for him to remain calm. The Commander had often wondered if he had been wise to accept the gentleman's offer, even if it had sounded so simple at the time: a promotion for his collaboration. But on top of being daily insulted, he had to endure the bitter souvenir of the arrested men, women and children seized in the streets to be locked up in cages in the _H.M.S. Justice_'s holds. The screamed questions, the pleas, the curses, the babies' cries were still fresh in his ears and they had haunted Chambers, disturbing his sleep. Like a coward, he wished for the hangings to be done as soon as possible so this memory would fade from his mind.

His employer paced the study's floor back and forth, strutting about as if he was already enjoying his triumph. Chambers felt nauseated at the sight of this vermilion-colored costume which reminded him of soon-to-be-spilled blood on the gallows; perspiration was rolling on his forehead and his Royal Navy uniform felt too tight on him. Maybe he was coming down from a fever? That would be a godsend, thought Chambers, since catching a disease would be a good excuse for being dispensed from watching the mass hanging. He would remind safely inside his quarters while the poor wretches' necks would be broken, and he had enough money to pay for a doctor's certificate attesting his "condition" had required bed rest. It would look more true, and no one would be able to blame him! His employer would yell his head off, but...

"Chambers! Did you hear what I've said?"

The Commander almost jumped on his feet: in his reverie, he hadn't listened to a word the gray-haired gentleman had said for the past few minutes.

"No, I'm sorry Milord, but I have long hours of work at Fort Charles behind me. I understand why you wanted to show me your costume, Milord: it's truly impressive! You are right, it's a real display of wealth and power that will give you infallible respect. But it is getting late, both of us have been working very hard with those arrests so we should turn in..."

"**You will go to your lice-infested bed when I'll tell you to do so, Chambers**!" roared the red-faced, red-clothed gentleman. "For your information, the night is just starting and I haven't finished what I wanted to do today!"

The Commander's pale face turned into a sickly white: what did that tyrant wanted, this time?

"What do you mean, Milord?"

"I'm going to see Sparrow in his cell, tonight! And you will come along with me!"

"B-but... But to what goal, Milord?"

"For my viewing pleasure, what do you think? Have your tiny brains forgotten already that this man is directly responsible for Lord Beckett's death and the destruction of the _H.M.S. Endeavour_? He must pay for his crime a thousand times over, but there is still the risk that the rope will grant him a prompt death. I want him to suffer, as much as Lord Beckett's has suffered when the bullets and the cannonballs tore him apart. I have bought this nice riding crop in town this morning," said Chambers' boss while presenting the item to the would-be Captain's astounded eyes, "and I have all the intention in the world of using it on Sparrow."

"But..."

"Ah yes, what a marvelous sound!" said the older man while swishing the riding crop through the air. "Short but powerful, the perfect whip to use against a rebellious horse or a prisoner locked up in a soapbox-sized cell. Some sentimental idiots say it is a proof of poor horsemanship to whip a horse, as if those mindless beasts deserve any better! But there is no place in this world for the weak, so I have no scruples in rubbing my defeated enemies' faces in the mud. Sparrow is vanquished and he'll feel my wrath through a hundred stinging wounds. He is renowned to have the gift of the gab so he will probably use it to talk his way out of his punishment, but it won't help him this time. With a bit of luck, I'll even manage to slice his tongue off his mouth with a flick of the wrist!"

"But, Milord, what will the citizens of Port Royal think after they see a blood-covered Sparrow dragged to the gallows?"

"Are you discussing my decisions, Chambers? I don't give a damn about what those plebeians think. As if they know how to use their heads in the first place! I am getting sick and tired of your constant arguing. Who is the officer in charge of the pontoon?"

"Lieutenant Charon, Milord."

"The quiet man I've spotted at Fort Charles, eh? He seems able and with a lot of composure. Well, maybe I should grant him a captaincy instead of you!"

Chambers felt his heart slamming against his throat: Lieutenant Charon was a haughty bastard who had earned the nickname of _"Cold fish"_ after his indifference had provoked the death of sailors under his command after refusing them medical help, on the grounds that sick and dying men were just a hindrance. It had caused a scandal and Captain Charon had been superseded to Lieutenant and appointed to supervising the supplies stocks at Fort Charles, but he was so detested by the soldiers Chambers had given him a temporary post at the pontoon, in the idea of gaining a few days of peace at the barracks.

"Milord, this is outrageous!"

"Indeed, so keep your comments to yourself. Now get on your feet, you will accompany me to the _H.M.S. Justice_ tonight. I want Sparrow to have a taste of this riding crop before his execution, which is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at 5 p.m."

"Very well, Milord," answered Chambers while silently adding: _"May the Devil takes you!"_

* * *

_A__t the same time, aboard the _Flying Dutchman_..._

"How do I look, Papa?"

Bootstrap Bill Turner would have dropped the package held in his arms on the Great Cabin's planks if it hadn't contained a precious item: Will looked simply magnificent!

During the day, the ghost ship had been cruising in the Jamaican waters, carefully avoiding other vessels and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Luck had been on their side, since dark clouds had quickly filled the sky, making fishermen renounce to eventual catches and tradesmen remain in the safety of the harbor. At nightfall, the weather had turned foggy, allowing the _Flying Dutchman_ to come closer to Port Royal without raising the alarm, and now its crewmembers was getting ready for the upcoming action.

Will had explained to the sailors his plan to rescue Jack, his men and the innocents victims of the unnamed gentleman. He had also said that none of his men was forced to participate in this rescue: if someone had a bad feeling about the whole situation, he could remain onboard and wait for the return of his shipmates, free from all blame. But the whole crew had instantaneously accepted to help the young Turner in retrieving his friend, stating that they trusted their Captain unconditionally and he had made a fine plan, anyway: nothing could go wrong as long as Captain Turner was on charge! Will had thanked them for their support, sincerely moved by the men's loyalty towards him while Bootstrap had watched the whole scene, glowing with pride.

After the thick fog had covered the ocean's waters, Will had gone to the Great Cabin to try the new costume, and he hadn't reappeared yet. Bill had taken charge of the needed preparations, making sure the ship was ready and every man known what he had to do – including Wang Tao, but one look at the Chinaman alone in his tiny dinghy had reassured the _Dutchman_'s First Mate: the immaculately-dressed spy was busy cleaning up a set of very long, very thin daggers! It had felt just like in Bootstrap's old pirating days, when he was about to participate to a boarding. However, Will's plan didn't include firing shots or cannonballs so the sailors didn't need to be armed to the teeth: a few of them carried weapons... but only to acquire an intimidating look!

After everything was settled, the elder Turner had gone to his own cabin to pick up an item that would perfect Will's disguise. Then he had gone to the Captain's quarters with a bundle tucked under his arm, knocked at the Great Cabin's door just before opening it and then... he had hardly recognized his son!

Will was put on the costume Wang Tao had "borrowed" from the tailoring shop, and it fitted him perfectly: he had put on a white satin shirt and stockings, olive green breeches, a gold-colored brocade waistcoat and a deep blue cutaway coat with golden threats enhancing the edgings. His dark mane of hair, usually floating freely, had been tied back at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon and his bandana had been replaced by a black tricorn hat. Dressed in this rich attire and with his handsomeness, Will looked every inch like an aristocrat. But there were no looking-glasses in the Great Cabin – apart from a tiny shard of mirror, that Will used while shaving – so he had no idea if his appearance would be deceiving enough to fool the guards aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_.

"Well, Papa? How do I look?" asked the young man, sounding a bit worried this time.

"_Like a prince!"_ thought Bill Turner, amazed by this spectacular transformation but he knew Will's modest nature so he replied quickly: "Like a true gentleman, son."

"Really, Papa? I do? I want to put the _Justice_'s guards on a false trail as soon as I step on its main deck, but it won't happen if I can't persuade them of my fake noble origins."

"You look fine, Will. None of the Marines will ever try to question you; as of the officer on charge, once you have that letter of authorization signed by the Harbormaster, he won't be able to do anything to stop you from seeing Jack! Appearances play an important role in your plan, but you have perfectly covered all your bases. Oh, by the way, here's something that will add some authenticity to your disguise..."

Bill produced the bundle he had tucked under his arm, and opened it: the young Turner saw it was a velvet-made cloak, embroidered with gold and silver threads and doubled with purple-colored silk. Will recognized the garment as it was unwrapped under the lightened lantern hanging from the Great Cabin's ceiling, and it brought back many memories.

"Papa, this is the cloak of Ammand the Corsair, the Pirate Lord of the Black Sea!"

"That's right, son. He covered you with it after you've been wounded by Red Hand Pete's torturer. When we climbed back aboard the _Dutchman_ I tried to give the cloak back to him, but Ammand refused; he said you needed it more than him, but I guess he also wanted you to keep a souvenir of his participation to your rescue. I've cleaned the blood strains and I kept it in my cabin ever since, because I know you wouldn't want to wear it while ferrying souls. But this cloak is worthy of a lord and, well, I thought it would come in handy for your plan. Here, try it on..."

Bill deployed the cloak on his son's shoulders, and indeed it completed Will's costume. The young Turner definitively looked like a gentleman who had traveled the world and brought back some exotic items to wear... as well as a Chinese servant to accompany him on the _H.M.S. Justice_.

"It's perfect, Papa! You really have some great ideas!" exclaimed Will, but he got no answer so he raised his head and saw his father looking worried: the time was up, Will was going to leave the ghost ship with Wang Tao and two men – Rudy Thompson and Jeroboam Fox – while his father would remain aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ until he would receive a signal, telling him to quietly draw the ghost ship alongside the _Black Pearl II_ and dispose of the few soldiers guarding it.

No one but Bill Turner was better qualified to execute this delicate maneuver on a foggy night and the older man had sworn he would help Will, but he couldn't help but feel torn at the thought he would be separated from his beloved child, even for just a moment.

"Papa?"

The elder Turner shook out of his reverie, then he smiled at his son.

"Lady Luck smiled upon us tonight, my William: the moon is hidden, the fog is thickening by the minute; the _Flying Dutchman _is completely invisible, so we have the advantage of the surprise. The pontoon's guards will never know what had hit them!"

"Wang Tao is keeping the opium tincture on him... and his blades, as a precaution. Thompson and Fox will have pistols and swords – even though those weapons are rusted; as for me... well, if something goes wrong I can always "appear" on the _Dutchman_ in a flash. A pity I've never tried this trick while holding somebody in my arms: that way, maybe I could have "transferred" Jack, his men and the other victims from the pontoon to the _Dutchman_, without risking your safety or the ship's..."

"But it would have taken way too long, son! We don't know how many people are held aboard the _Justice_. We have estimated their number to be about two hundred; it would take you forever to "transport" the prisoners one by one on the _Flying Dutchman_ with your powers! Besides, since you've never "moved" from one ship to another while holding another person, tonight's not the time to try it. Just stick to your plan, which is very clever, and everything will go smoothly."

Bootstrap gently grabbed Will by the neck and kissed his forehead.

"Go with God, son."

"And with your love?"

"Oh, you have it, Little One. Forever and ever," answered Bill while silently adding: _"May the angels protect you!"_

Will hugged his father, and in the movement his beautiful costume met and clasped with Bill's tattered clothes. The two men wrapped their arms around each other's and held tightly for a moment and then, with a heavy sigh, they ended the embrace. It was time to rescue Jack.

* * *

_Later, in Port Royal's harbor..._

Harbormaster Preston Ledroit walked his way through the fogged and badly-lit docks of Port Royal, cursing his assistant's ineptitude.

Usually, he would never go to the harbor by night. It was usually by this time where smugglers land their goods and did their contraband operations – all this right under the customs officials' noses, who actually didn't care about that queer sort of business as long as they got their "blind-eye" salaries. Smuggling had existed since the foundation of Port Royal by the British and no one had complained about it, especially not during Swann's time. That debonair governor had such a trusting nature, he wouldn't even have dreamed corruption existed amongst the Crown's servants! So the smugglers had keep on importing merchandises in the harbor while the government's employers had become richer, including Ledroit who had never refused a bribe. How else would have he been able to buy fine clothes and keep a good lifestyle, otherwise? The whole deal had worked for years like a well-oiled mechanism... until that accursed Beckett had arrived in town with his private army.

Ledroit shuddered lightly, but it wasn't due to the temperature dropping. The recollection of Beckett's reign over Port Royal never failed to give the Harbormaster the creeps. Hundreds of people had been arrested by his order – smugglers, prostitutes, fences and so on –, charged of piracy and sent to the gallows without even a chance to defend their causes in court. Amongst the executed had been disgraced customs officials, and Ledroit had felt the noose brushing his own neck more than once. Only a thorough rectification of his records had bought him some time, and then Beckett had left Port Royal with his armada to eliminate the pirate's Brethren Court – never to be seen again. Ledroit had breathed a huge sigh of relief at the news that the dreaded East India Trading Company's representative wouldn't show his face in Port Royal again!

So life had went on for the Harbormaster, in his little universe of strangely-kept ledgers and coins appearing mysteriously in his coat's pockets. But the last days' events had him worried: Commander Chambers had arrested one hundred and twenty-five persons, under trumped-up charges that wouldn't have fooled an illiterate. Ledroit shuddered again as he saw the ghostly silhouette of the _H.M.S. Justice_, scarcely visible through the fog's thick white clouds. He knew the recently-caught pirates and Chambers' prisoners had been locked up in this pontoon, and there were no doubts in his minds that another Beckett-like mass hanging would be organized soon. So he had ordered his stupid assistant to clean up the logs promptly, but that damned fool had forgotten to scratch a line mentioning the existence of merchandises that weren't supposed to exist. And the ledgers had been delivered to Governor Laverty's office!

Cursing again his assistant, Ledroit walked quickly towards an isolated boathouse, which served to store rowing boats and occasionally, undeclared goods. It was a shabby construction, located in the farthest side of the docks, and no one would have paid any attention to it – which served its purposes very well. Ledroit knew the merchandises would be stocked there and the fog would give him the needed discretion to act swiftly: one good push and the potential exhibits would sit at the bottom of Port Royal's harbor, with his regards!

The Harbormaster straightened his spectacles on his nose, and he looked around before entering the boathouse: Port Royal was plunged into the fog's whiteness since the street lights didn't give sufficient illumination, not a sound could be heard and the sea was tranquil. Perfect!

Ledroit entered the dilapidated building; once inside, he lightened a dark lantern. After a few minutes, he spotted the items he was looking for: two hessian-cloth bales tied up with ropes, which the Harbormaster knew they contained fine silk from China. A shame to make them disappear, truly, but it was either the bales or his neck, so it was an easy choice to make.

He laid down his dark lantern on a nearby crate and bent over to grab the first lot of goods, when suddenly he was hurled against the dirty wooden wall! Another violent jerking movement made him stumble backwards, and the next instant he found himself staring at the dark eye of a pistol held by a sailor, while another man was forcefully maintaining his arms behind his back.

"Ssh!" said the attacker with the gun. "Not a sound or it's bullet-between-the-eyes time! Got it?"

Self-preservation was second nature to the Harbormaster, so he simply nodded his acknowledgement. Let those men take the few coins he had in his pockets, it wasn't worth his life. In spite of the gloomy light provided by the dark lantern, he could see that in addition of the two aggressors, there was a third person standing nearby – small of stature, bald, and dressed in black. Ledroit quickly realized this man was an Oriental. But what was the meaning of all this?

"Greetings, Honored Watcher of Port Royal's docks," said the Chinaman while bowing lightly to the prisoner. "It is with deep regret that we have resorted to violence to gain your undivided attention, but circumstances coerce us to act swiftly and silently. We would like to present you a request, and we would greatly appreciate if you'd instantaneously agree to grant it."

Ledroit could hardly believe his own ears: those muggers didn't want his money?

"W-What request?"

"We would like you to write a letter of authorization, Honorable Watcher of Port Royal's docks. An official document signed and sealed by your hand, granting permission to my Master to step foot on the pontoon named the _H.M.S. Justice_."

"What?!" exclaimed the Harbormaster. "But why?"

"For matters of his own, my Master wishes to speak to one of the prisoners currently held inside this floating prison. However, he doesn't want his visit to be delayed by unwanted questions asked by soldiers or the officer guarding it, therefore he needs to acquire a permit. That is the reason of our impromptu visit to you, in this quite-discreet building. Your willing participation in the writing of this letter will be appreciated, and you will be adequately compensated for your time, of course. However, we would be vexed by a refusal from your part... quite vexed, indeed."

Ledroit didn't waste time asking why those men had cornered him in a boathouse in the middle of the night, to ask for a letter of authorization. Whoever this "Master" was, he probably had some shadowy affairs with one of the pirates detained aboard the _Justice_ but the Harbormaster had learned a long time ago to not pry people about their businesses. Besides, it would be unhealthy to argue, given the circumstances!

"Fine. Let's go to my office, and I will write this letter of authorization immediately."

"I beg to differ, Honorable Watcher of Port Royal's docks! You will write it here."

"But I don't have any stationery on me!"

"I will provide you with everything you need. Just make yourself comfortable on this bench, and one of my men will approach a barrel to use as a desk."

"But who is the prisoner your Master wants to see? I must now his identity to write his name down on the letter – and your Master's, as well!"

"The captive's name is Captain Jack Sparrow, commander of the _Black Pearl II_. My Master is... Sir William, Lord Burlington," said the Chinese with a large gesture of the hand, and Ledroit's eyes widened as he saw an impassible young noble sitting on a longboat, which was floating inside the boathouse.

The Harbormaster was completely flabbergasted: how could a gentleman associate himself with two scallywags and a strange servant, all this to gain a letter granting him access to the pontoon? He was tempted to call out to "Lord Burlington" to ask what his purposes were, but one look at the youngster's attire and embroidered cloak awakened Ledroit's greediness: there was money in this case, if there was nothing else. The young lord was watching him calmly, but it was obvious that he would neither move from the longboat nor bother to answer questions.

He nodded again, so the attacker with the pistol brought forward a barrel while his accomplice made him sit – a bit roughly – on a dirty bench. The Chinaman walked towards the longboat and exchanged a few words with Lord Burlington, who gave him a flat, wooden box. The Oriental bowed, and returned to present the box to Ledroit: it contained folded sheets of paper, a quill, a portable inkwell, a red wax stick and a leather wallet. The Harbormaster's right arm was released and the stationary was displayed on the makeshift desk. The pistol-holder approached the dark lantern and Ledroit started to write:

"_I, the undersigned, __Preston Ledroit, by authority of Harbormaster of Port Royal, Jamaica and loyal servant of Charles, by the grace of God King of England, Scotland and Ireland, grant to Sir William, Lord Burlington free access on the H.M.S. _Justice_ to interrogate the inmate known as Captain Jack Sparrow..."_

Once the redaction was finished, the Harbormaster signed his name at the bottom of the letter and the Chinaman presented the wax stick to the dark lantern's flame. Heavy drops of red fell on the paper and Ledroit presented the gold signet ring he wore on the little finger of his left hand: the seal, facing outwards, left an impression of the man's initials and his profession's coat-of-arms on the melted wax. The Chinese took the letter and tucked it carefully inside the leather wallet, before returning to the longboat and presenting it to Lord Burlington with a bow. The young lord opened the wallet, read the letter and, apparently satisfied by its contents, he slipped something into his servant's hand.

The small man came back to Ledroit; he motioned to the two sailors and the Harbormaster was hauled back on his feet, his arms pinioned behind his back again but before he could protest, the Oriental carefully tucked the writing items inside the box again and said:

"My Master is satisfied, Honorable Watcher of Port Royal's docks, and thanks you for your cooperation. As a token of his appreciation, he has asked me to deliver you this..."

The Chinese opened his hand to reveal... three diamonds, shining in all their glory in his palm! Ledroit had barely the time to gasp out of surprise that the strange servant deftly let the diamonds fell inside his coat's pocket.

"He also asked me to give you this..."

One of the sailors knocked down the Harbormaster's tricorn hat and wig; in a blink of an eye, the Oriental jumped and land his fist on the man's head. Ledroit went out like a light, and would have collapsed to the ground if not for the aggressors' iron grips on his arms.

"Well done, Mister Wang Tao!" exclaimed the pistol-holder. "He's out fer the count."

"You gotta quite a punch, so you do!" said the other man, filled with admiration.

"My thanks for your amiable comments, Honorable crewmembers of the Soul Vessel. I daresay this man has accurately served our purposes, but now that his cooperation is no longer needed, we should hide his unconscious body behind those bales he seemed eager to dispose of. Since he is a bit heavy for a man of my size to carry, would I trouble you with this task before leaving the boathouse?"

"Just go back ta the longboat, Mister Wang Tao, and we'll take care of ‛im! Give me a ‛and, Rudy!"

While the two sailors were dragging Ledroit's slack body on the ground, Wang Tao jumped aboard the longboat. Will was tucking the wallet containing the letter of authorization carefully inside his coat, smiling slightly.

"You are definitively a multi-talented man, Mister Wang Tao. On top of being a spy full of resources, you are also a very good actor!"

"May the Pure August Jade Emperor bless you seven times, Lord Captain Turner. Your kindness equals only the generosity you've showed towards this pitiful specimen of a corrupted harbormaster. To think you have rewarded him with precious stones, while he should have been grateful to work for the Most Honored Master of the Soul Vessel... talk about giving pearls to a swine!"

"Ah, but this gift will ensure us of his silence, Mister Wang Tao. He's unlikely to warn the authorities about our presence in these waters since he'll be too busy to have those diamonds evaluated by an expert, to learn their values. And with the bump on his head, he'll have no trouble inventing a story about he had been coerced to write this letter of authorization, if someone asks him about it after Jack has escaped!"

Thompson and Fox quickly finished with hiding Ledroit's body, and then they jumped on the longboat to grab the oars. Within minutes, the four men had left the boathouse to disappear into the thick fog rolling on the jet-black sea. It would have been hard for a normal sailor to find the pontoon in this weather, but some of the prisoners trapped inside the _H.M.S. Justice_ were suffocating from their dreadful holding conditions and they were on the brink of death... while the young Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ was gifted with the powers to hear the "cries" of dying souls.

Will leaned forwards and asked:

"Do you all know what you have to do?"

"Aye, Captain," answered Thompson and Fox as one.

"Quite so, Lord Captain Turner."

"Good. Then pull at those oars, men. The _H.M.S. Justice_ is this way!"

TBC...


	10. In the belly of the beast

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Smithy: Hi! I confess to have never seen the _"Pocahontas"_ Disney movie, but you seem to appreciate the costume I've given to Lord Unknown! ;-)

- To Fan (a.k.a. Eagle-Eyes): thank you very much!

- To Candi (a.k.a. Sharpshooter): thank you, too!

- The title comes from the book written by Jack Abbott (1944 – 2002), published in 1981.

* * *

**Chapter ****10: In the belly of the beast**

_Aboard the H.M.S. Justice__…_

While walking down the stairs leading to the pontoon's lower levels, Commander Bartholomew Chambers felt like puking all over his military-issued and polished boots and he couldn't possibly care less if it didn't look dignified for a man of his rank: his stomach wouldn't endure this torment any longer!

After leaving the Grand Mansion, he and his employer had rode to Port Royal's docks in a carriage, with shutters closing the windows so no one would see who would pay a visit to the _H.M.S. Justice _at night. Then, they had taken a longboat to reach the pontoon, even though it had been hard to find sailors who would volunteer for this task: with the thick fog and the almost complete absence of light, finding the _H.M.S. Justice_ wouldn't be easy and the risks of collision were high. But Chambers had quickly found able rowers – before his boss would become dangerously impatient – and, after a few navigational mistakes which had made them loose precious time, they had finally reached the pontoon.

As on cue, the impeccable Lieutenant Charon had greeted them as soon as the two men had stepped on the _Justice_'s main deck. Chambers had felt a shiver running down his spine at the sight of Charon's stony face, as it looked like it had been chiseled from white marble. It gave the man a cadaverous look, enhanced by unblinking green eyes constantly staring at people until they would turn away, unnerved by those ghoulish features. No wonders soldiers had nicknamed the disgraced Captain-turned-Lieutenant _"Cold fish"_ since he appeared as a strict, by-the-book man who would step over his own mother's body if it ever stood on his way.

Charon had wrongly thought that an obsequious greeting would somehow earn him the red-clothed gentleman's favor. Unfortunately, Chambers' employer had been in a foul mood, exasperated by the longboat's lateness to reach the pontoon. After receiving a few hash words, Charon had given up all attempts to be a good courtesan and he had ordered Sergeant Vincent, a fat man with a breath smelling strongly of rum, to guide the visitors to Captain Jack Sparrow's cell.

This midnight trip in a foggy weather and this incident with Charon had already been enough for Commander Chambers' stomach to churn miserably inside his belly, but it had gotten worse after they had walked down the pontoon's staircases and ladders. To reach Sparrow's cell, they had to cross the ship's lower levels… where all the prisoners were held, jammed in small compartments or crammed in tiny cells, pressed tightly against the iron bars. Oh, the cries for mercy, the curses, the children's tears, the despair, all this in a cacophony of coughs and groans! The heat was unbearable and the air was so foul below decks, Vincent's lantern had trouble to keep on burning! It had given Chambers a nice glimpse of Hell, and his stomach was drowning on acid. His employer, however, had turned a deaf ear to the prisoners' pleas and had kept on walking faster in his eagerness to see his prized captive, the riding crop tucked under his arm.

As they reached the ship's lower level, Chambers faked a cough to clear his throat, but in truth he was trying to calm down his stomach. He shouldn't let his fears or his disgust overcome him; there was a hostile audience watching him and he couldn't let his future captaincy slip away from his fingers, simply because the _H.M.S. Justice_'s holds smelled worse than the Devil's perfume. Later, in the intimacy of his room at Fort Charles, he would throw up as often as he wanted to.

"We 'ave arrived, Milord," said Sergeant Vincent suddenly, pointing at a locked door. "Dis is the place where Sparrow is 'eld."

"Not a moment too soon!" growled the elder gentleman with the crimson attire. "Couldn't you have walked a bit faster?"

"But Milord, it's very dark in 'ere!" protested Vincent. "Yu could 'ave broken yur leg if yu 'ave missed a step and…"

"Open the door, Sergeant, and shut your mouth!" snapped Chambers, feeling drops of sweat rolling down on his face and his aching stomach tying itself into a sailor's knot. The sooner his employer would have his conversation with Sparrow, the faster they would leave this God-forsaken place!

Vincent seemed taken aback by the Commander's reaction, but he thought better of it and he reached for the keys dandling at his belt. Because of the hold's gloominess, it took him a few moments to find the one opening the door and Chambers considered for a minute bashing the fat man's head just for being so slow. Finally, Vincent found the appropriate opening device and the locked door turned on its hinges, revealing a small room lit only by a small lantern holding a flickering candle.

Oh, gosh… The smells inside this room were worse than the pontoon's cells, if possible! Chambers gave up and pressed a handkerchief against his nose, hoping it would keep the odors at bay. But his employer didn't seem to care about the air's quality: with a snarl, he snatched Vincent's lantern from his hand and entered the room, his leather riding crop held tightly in his fist. Chambers reluctantly followed, and saw that the room contained two narrow boxes made of wooden planks and shut by iron bars, the kind of contraption that would be built to hold animals like jungle cats. Sparrow had been locked inside one of those boxes and he was apparently sleeping, while the other one was occupied by The Maggot, that low-life buccaneer Chambers had captured a few weeks ago. The Maggot snarled in the direction of the Commander, who instinctively recoiled even though he was standing at a good distance from the cage, but his employer took no notice of his fears: he grabbed at an abandoned pail and turned it over, using it as a seat so he could be at eye level with Sparrow.

"**Wake up, you disgusting pirate!" **yelled the man, hitting the cell's iron bars with his riding crop while his other hand was holding Vincent's lantern.** "Wake up, and meet your doom!"**

Jack grunted in annoyance; he had been dreaming about inheriting a magic island where rum flowed freely from a cascade, and he had invited all the pirates of the world for a great party with non-stop music, very nice ladies and barbecues stuffed with wild pork meat. An explosion of fireworks had illuminated the night sky, making his guests laugh and applaud while a few fistfights erupted simultaneously. But all of a sudden, a banging sound had disturbed the _fiesta_ so Jack had gotten up from his Pirate King's throne to investigate, leaving behind him a very disappointed Scarlet and a sulking Giselle… and then, he had woken up. Who had dared to disturb the slumber of the unsurpassed Captain Sparrow?

Jack blinked his eyes, unaccustomed by the extra light. But his vision cleared quickly and he thought he was dreaming again: a middle-aged gentleman, wearing a flamboyant costume showing a monochrome of red, was staring at him with a murderous expression on his flat, plain features lit by a lantern!

Jack recognized this man at once: he had been present during his transfer from Port Royal's prison to the pontoon! Despite his drunkenness at the time, Jack hadn't forgotten the cruel, pretentious bigwig telling the crowd of good citizens about how "justice" would be served in the form of a hanging. And obviously, this unknown enemy hadn't come alone to see him: Chambers was standing in the background, pressing a handkerchief against his nose and mouth, while that drunkard Vincent looked disinterestedly to the whole scene.

Jack remained silent for five seconds, stunned by the extraordinary apparition sitting right in front of his cell… and then he busted out laughing.

"Yo ho ho and knock my socks off, me hearties! **Ha ha ha ha****!** You look so imbecilic, dressed up like this! **Ho ho ho HO****!** This is the most horrible costume I've ever seen in my life! And red like a cuckold's face, after finding his wife in bed with his brother! **Hee hee hee**! Who's your tailor, the King's buffoon? **Ho ho ho ha ha!** Even I, the extravagant Captain Jack Sparrow, wouldn't wear such an idiotic outfit if all the rum of the Caribbean depended on it! **Ha ha ha!** I bow to thee, Lord Vainglorious… or is it Lord Ridiculous? **Hee hee hee ha ha!** You look like a sunburned tomato! Hey Chambers, that was a great idea you've had to bring this clown in here! **Ho ho ho!** He's the perfect improvement to this distinguished institution! **Hee hee!**"

Jack was laughing so hard that tears of mirth were rolling down on his face His slender frame kept banging against the walls of his tiny cell but he paid no mind to such inconveniences. The vision of the nobleman dressed like for a carnival was worth a thousand gold doubloons!

Vincent, who was discreetly drinking from a flash he had stashed under his uniform's vest, coughed up all the rum he had in his mouth out of his astonishment to hear a prisoner laughing inside the _H.M.S. Justice_; that wasn't the kind of sound usually heard aboard a pontoon! The Commander coughed in his handkerchief again, but this time it wasn't to clear his throat: it was to hide his joy, since Sparrow had voiced his inner thoughts perfectly well. Quiet snickers could also be heard from The Maggot's cage, and the prisoner would have laughed out loud as well if he weren't worried about his already compromised situation.

But Chambers' employer didn't appreciate Jack's display of hilarity: with a snarl, he grabbed his riding crop and lashed out at the cell's bars, hitting it repetitively while yelling at the top of his voice:

"**You dare mocking me? You dare? Disgusting worm! I'll teach you a lesson! I'll teach you to respect your betters! You little bastard! I'll teach you!"**

Jack's laughter brutally ended under the blows, and he covered his face and neck as best as he could but the short leather whip hit him almost every time. He tried to curl up for protection, but the holding box was too narrow for him to do so. The beating lasted for about ten minutes and when the gray-haired gentleman stopped because he was out of breath, Jack was hurting from head to toes. The riding crop had rippened his shirt and breeches, and blood was starting to seep through his clothes. Deep cuts had appeared on his forearms, his legs and also on his face, marring his features. The lashes burned him like an iron brand, but the unsinkable Captain Jack Sparrow had tasted the whip more than once during his outlaw career and he was as resistant as a nail. A few strikes of a riding crop would never be enough to subdue him!

"Aww, are you seeing red, your Lordship?" asked Jack with an ironic smile, his jet-black eyes never leaving his tormentor's face. "As my legendary humor proven to be too much for you, since you are currently panting like a dog in heat from the effort of trying to make me quiet? Now, that was a proper waste of time and energy, because nothing in this world can prevent me from talking. Besides, your incredible bad taste in costume's color inspires my endless imagination, which as a result fuels my astonishing poetic talent. So, there goes:

_Redbreasts and restarts fight the same fight!_

_The sun is glowing__ red!_

_Red sky at night is the__ shepherd's delight!_

_My account is in the red!_

_Give the Red Sea to the red mullets!_

_Be merry and eat berries__!_

_Red wine is not__ to forget!_

_Conjunctivis __is the new sport!_

_Jewelers' rouge makes great blushes!_

_Portugal sells ruby port!_

_Hooray for the measles!_"

"**Will you shut up?!"** roared Chambers' boss, spraying saliva in all directions in his furor. He raised his arm to strike at the prisoner again, but Jack's next words stopped him short:

"Now why should I stop, _Beckett Senior_?"

* * *

_On__ the H.M.S. Justice's main deck…_

Lieutenant Charon was pacing the deck's planks, looking statue-like as usual but, inwardly, he was boiling with anger. His attempt in being polite to Chamber's high-class friend had backfired badly on him and he had been scolded like a new recruit, right in front of his men. But no one talked to him in this manner and got away with it! The Lieutenant's eyes hardened as he silently vowed he would make that purple clown pay with solid gold for what he did, even if it would take him years to get his revenge.

He turned his attention to his men, and apparently they were keeping a sharp lookout on the pontoon's peripheral area, but Charon wasn't fooled: he had been living with those never-do-gooders enough to know they were faking surveillance, whispering amongst them about their officer's humiliation. Besides, how could they see anything through that goddamned fog? It was funnier to talk about _"Cold fish" _being cooked by a member of the gentry: that was something that would be remembered for years in the barracks!

Charon stepped closer to the ship's rail, and his hard green eyes tried to discern Port Royal's harbor through the thick, low white clouds, but only the ghastly light provided by the street lanterns were visible; even the contours of the captured _Black Pearl II_, anchored nearby the _Justice_, were erased by the fog. The Lieutenant cursed inwardly: if it hadn't been for those whiners who had complained after their comrades had died, he wouldn't have lost his command and he would still have his ship, instead of playing slave-driver aboard a pontoon. He was absolutely indifferent about the fate of the imprisoned men, women and children; only his own situation mattered to his eyes and he found it pretty annoying for the moment.

Then, a movement through the fog caught his attention; a form was moving on the water, which was strange since no one in his right state of mind would sail in such conditions. But after a few minutes, Charon got confirmation that a longboat was indeed coming up to the _H.M.S. Justice_. The fog and the darkness made it difficult to see who was aboard the small craft, so he got his spyglass out of his coat and extended it. Two visits for the pontoon in the same night, a record! But who could it be this time?

Through the lenses, Charon could make out that two sailors pulling at the oars while a smaller, bald man was sitting on one of the benches. The last one was more difficult to discern: all the Lieutenant could make out through the fog was the silhouette of a tall man with aristocratic bearings, wrapped in a cloak and wearing a tricorn hat on his head.

"_Money," _thought Chambers while collapsing the spyglass. His granite-like features didn't betray his hopes, though, as he ordered the soldiers to get ready to welcome their new visitor, ignoring their curses and grumbles about being disturbed just before suppertime.

* * *

_In the H.M.S. Justice's hold…_

Commander Chambers almost dropped his handkerchief on the dirty floor.

Sergeant Vincent forgot to take another swallow of his flask.

The Maggot suddenly stopped snickering in his cage.

The gray-haired gentleman turned as still as a statue, apart from a droll of saliva falling from the corner of his mouth.

And Captain Jack Sparrow was triumphant. His out-of-this-world brains had worked to perfection again!

After a long moment of silence, the man holding the riding crop stuttered: "H-H-How… How in the world did you know?"

"Tsk! You are as naïve as you are brutal, Beckett Senior. Did you honestly think your poor display of authority would be a match for the ideas-producing machine I happen to lodge inside my skull? If you had done your homework properly before seizing my ship by sheer treachery, you would have known that I am the smartest pirate of the Caribbean and therefore, no amount of discretion from your part would have stopped me to figure out what your identity is. I've already had a hunch while rioting in the streets during my transfer in this pontoon, but when you came here with that absurd attire and this whip, it took me about four seconds to realize who you were."

Chambers couldn't believe his own ears. For weeks, he had been wondering who his employer was and what the reasons of his grudge against Sparrow were, but searching for clues had been nothing but a dead-end. His boss had maintained a severe silence around him by threats and money, so no one in Port Royal had been able to inform the Commander. And yet, that bedraggled rascal of a pirate captain had found the answer to his questions in a snap!

"_He's good. Damn him, he's good!"_ thought Chambers, both amazed and crossed by Jack's cleverness.

His employer growled like a rabid dog: "Yes, I am Cuthbert Beckett, father of Lord Cutler Beckett, whom you have murdered in cold blood during the maelstrom battle!"

"I energetically protest! Ol' Cutler had the foolishness to stand in front of my guns just as I was firing them, that's how things got pretty heated up for him – in fact, the temperature rose so high it had properly pulverized him. If he wasn't able stand the heat, then he should have gotten out of the kitchen – Hell's kitchen, that is. What did you expect me to do, stop the cannonballs? Politely asking Cutler to get out of the way, like any sane person would do? Or maybe firing blanks, so his costume wouldn't get a wrinkle? Well, for your information, Captain Jack Sparrow's cannon have never fired blanks, neither on the deck of his mighty ship nor in the company of a nice lady, savvy?"

"**Little creep!"** yelled Cuthbert Beckett in a shower of spits, swishing his riding crop and hitting Jack through his cell's bars again.

"Ouch! I prefer the expression _"ladies' man"_, if you don't mind (ow!). But that term is beyond your comprehension since you sport a beautiful eunuch-hood just like Junior did (ouch!). It's been a while since you've lay with a woman (ow!), hasn't it, Bertie? You have forgotten how its mechanisms work (ah!), eh? 'Tis as flabby as an overcooked sausage, and you only use it for the evacuation of dirtied water, do you?"

The elder Beckett howled in rage and beat up Jack within an inch of his life. The blows were so violent that Sergeant Vincent averted his gaze and Chambers hid his face behind his handkerchief. Only The Maggot laughed out loud, praising the gentleman for his handiwork and yelling in joy every time the leather whip hit home, which happened way too often. When the torture finally ended, Jack was a bloodied mess and Chambers thought for a horrible instant that the prisoner had succumbed, victim of both his insolence and Beckett's wrath… until the dark eyes opened and the sarcastic smile was back on the pirate's face.

"By the way, it is rumored that torturers are bed-wetter (ow!). Is it true, Beckett Senior?" asked Jack, grunting in pain.

The red-costumed man looked like he was going to strike again, but Chambers grabbed his arm.

"That's enough, Milord! If you kill him here, we won't be able to hang him tomorrow with the rest of his crew!"

"Gee, Chambers actually voiced a good idea (ungh!)! That's an extraordinary event, since intelligence isn't (ah!) his prime quality. Call the local gazette's printer for an extra publication!"

"Shut up, Sparrow!" yelled the Commander.

"Tsk, don't be jealous, Bartholomew! I can understand your anger for having being left in the dark for weeks, thanks to (ouch) your boss' refusal to decline his identity. It must have been frustrating to work for a man who keeps a shroud of mystery around him, eh? Made you look like a clueless idiot, didn't he? Well, if it is any consolation for you, just remember that my intellect is as sharp as a Spanish-steel sword while yours is rusty and blunt. You can blame Mother Nature for that!"

"Damn your eyes!"

"This conversation has left (ow) me with a powerful thirst. Gaoler!" exclaimed Jack, snapping his fingers at the direction of Sergeant Vincent. "Bring me that flask of rum you are selfishly drinking while unsuccessfully trying to remain inconspicuous!"

"Yes, Sir…" said the fat sergeant obediently, handing out his flask. He was nearly reaching Jack's cell when his brains finally realized what he was doing and he hid the said recipient behind his back in a swift movement of the arm, exclaiming: "WHAT?!"

"Chambers! What in the world kind of idiots do you have amongst yours troops?" yelled Cuthbert Beckett, jumping on his feet. The movement made the overturned pail fall over on the floor. "That obese was going to give Sparrow a drink! What will be next, the keys to his cell's door? Good God, I am surrounded only by incompetents! And to think I was considering granting you a captaincy; you wouldn't even be trusted with the leadership of a cockleshell!"

The Commander felt a blush coloring his cheeks, and then he started to scold Vincent good and hard. While the two military men were busy arguing with each other, Beckett Senior approached Jack's narrow box again.

"You are going to pay for what you did to my son, Sparrow. Your antics won't spare you from a painful and humiliating death. I have made everyone linked with pirates in town arrested, including females and runts; all of them will be hanged along your crewmembers, and you will march to the gallows while watching a display of corpses swaying at the end of a rope. You will be the last one to die – normal, for a Captain! – but I've made arrangements with the executioner so the noose will suffocate you slowly. And your precious _Black Pearl II_ will be blown to smithereens before your dying eyes, how about that?"

"Like father, like son!" answered Jack negligently, using a rip of his shirt to clean his split lower lip. His wounds were hurting him like crazy but he would be damned before he'd give his tormentor the satisfaction of watching him beg for his life. "I can remember clearly how Cutler enjoyed the sound of snapped necks, especially those of young children. He had to find an (ungh) appropriate stimulus in order to cure his renowned impotence, see, and only the sight of a gibbet would grant him a very short-lived reaction. Thus, he multiplied the executions but in the end, he ran out of men to hang: that is the explanation why he turned to women and kiddies!"

"Why, you…"

"Oh, spare me your indignant act, Cuthbert Beckett. You bear the same eyes as your son's and you share the same temperament: cruel, greedy and vain. The only difference (ouch!) between you and Cutler is that he knew how to mimic a gentleman to the perfection. You, on the other hand, could multiply the finest clothes on your back and remain nothing but a poor caricature of nobility. You have wrapped yourself in a grieving father role to justify your evil actions, but you can't fool the brilliant Captain Jack Sparrow. My piercing eyes can see right through you like in a crystal glass! Besides, you don't actually cry for your son's demise, do you? It's the loss of your money you are moaning about!"

Chambers brutally ended his conversation with Sergeant Vincent at those words.

"What do you mean, Sparrow?"

"You still haven't figured it out, have you, Chamber Pot? Well, let me explain it to you with words so simple even you can understand: Beckett Senior here is as money-hungry as the next pirate, and all his life he had dreamed about becoming a Lord in a grand mansion (ow), surrounded with antiques and stuffing himself with gold while poor devils would break their backs in making him becoming even richer. He had enough ambition and cruelty to do so; however, he lacked an important character trait: ruthlessness. Cuthbert's plans got somehow wrecked in the way – none of it had been his fault, of course – so Daddy drilled sonny-boy about the unfairness of all this and how important it was to walk over people before they would walk over him (ungh!). And Cutler, who was as ruthless as Davy Jones, succeeded where his old man had failed: he entered the East India Trading Company as a clerk, and got out as a Lord! Daddy-dearest ambitions were finally concretized. Money, money, money and more money rained inside the old man's coin-purse through the work of his devoted son!"

"**SHUT UP!"**

"But Cutler hit a snag, in the form of a sagacious and incredibly-handsome young man, namely my modest person. Beckett Junior ate his powdered wig out of anger after I had freed a whole cargo of African slaves instead of selling them to the American colonies – human trafficking is a disgusting trade, unworthy of any mother's son who has ever called himself a sailor – but since Cutler got a little slap on the wrist after this exploit, he vowed eternal vengeance against humanity in general and me in particular (ooh!). He wanted to regain money and prestige, so this tiny spot on his immaculate record had to be erased with blood… pirates' or kids', whoever came first. So he gathered his East India Trading Company dogs to hound me from place to place, murdered half of Port Royal's population on the gallows and threatened my relatives with the death penalty, all this to end as fish food at the bottom of the ocean. Beckett Senior has been crying his eyes out since the maelstrom battle because Cutler was much more than his son: he was his piggy-bank!"

Cuthbert Beckett's face was as purple as his costume, but Jack smiled a gold-and-silver smile in spite of his wounds: "So, let's talk business, Senior. To what do I owe the honor of your visit in my spacious holding premises?"

Sergeant Vincent blinked stupidly at the loquacious captive, while Chambers casted a furious glance at his employer: on top of treating him like a low-life beggar, the old man had omitted to tell him many things! To think he had been working for Beckett's father during those past weeks… and Bartholomew Chambers had heartily detested the arrogant East India Trading Company representative!

"Don't fool yourself, Sparrow!" growled Beckett through gritted teeth. "You will pay a hundredfold for what you did to my son, do you hear me? It will be hard for you to sully his reputation with the noose around your neck! You will have a painful death and it's just too bad that quartering isn't allowed anymore. The rope will squeeze until your eyeballs explode! Neither your men nor the citizens of this putrid city will help you, Sparrow. You are alone and you are doomed, just like Cutler was when you fired from all pieces at the _H.M.S. Endeavour_. But I am a trader by profession, and I am considering offering you a deal…"

"_He sure took his sweet time to lay down his cards!"_ thought Jack, who replied: "Oh? And what would that be, pray tell?"

"You may buy yourself a quicker death if you accept my proposition: I know you have been treasure-hunting, Sparrow. Piracy became too dangerous for you, even after you've won against the East India Trading Company's armada, so you have chosen to pillage sunken wrecks loaded with gold. You must have gathered a tidy sum over the years, so if you tell me where your booty is located, I will order the executioner to forget about the slow suffocation which was planned for you."

Jack's laughter rang out loud in the dimness of the room.

"That would be a tempting proposition, apart from the fact that you're a pathological liar!"

"**SPARROW!"**

"Commander Chambers, the presence of this vermillion visitor is not of my interest: he lacks of the most elementary elegance and his thwarted temper makes him spray saliva all over the place, thus acting like a slug with a cold! Would you kindly remove this unwanted guest?"

Beckett raised his fist holding the riding crop again, but Chambers stopped him short:

"All right, that's enough! You shut your mouth, Sparrow, and you keep it closed; otherwise I will order the soldiers to pour buckets of sea water all over your wounds and it will make you sing like a canary! As for you, Milord, we're going to have a conversation upstairs, in Lieutenant Charon's office."

"You dare?" said Cuthbert Beckett, his bulging eyes getting even wider. "You seem to forget I am the one employing you!"

"Yes, and we are going to reevaluate the terms of our agreement, Milord. You have kept far too many information for me to obey you any longer. You should have told me you were Beckett's father, and the nature of your grudge against Sparrow. But you treated me like a low-ranking officer and I am getting sick and tired of your contempt towards me. Like I've told you before, I did try to save your son's life during the maelstrom battle, but instead of abandoning the ship he deliberately choose to walk through the crossfire and he got killed in the process. I have nothing to reproach myself. Now, you are still keen on hanging the crew of the _Black Pearl II_ and his Captain, fine! I will help you. But you are going to write this letter granting me a captaincy tonight! We will find all necessary writing items in Charon's office. Sergeant Vincent, you are staying here with the prisoners and you make sure they remain calm; otherwise you will be broken to the ranks. Now, let's go, Milord!"

Beckett looked like he was going to strike Chambers with his whip as well, but the Commander was armed with a pistol and a sword and the middle-aged man had always avoided confrontations when his adversaries could fight back. Sergeant Vincent, for all his clumsiness, could help his officer and even dare touching his beautiful costume! His cover was blown, thanks to Sparrow's sharp wits, and for the moment he didn't have the winning cards in hand. It was wiser to obey and write this letter, even though Chambers wouldn't be able use it for a very long time: Beckett had planned to get rid of the Commander as soon as they would have captured the _Flying Dutchman_.

Shaking with barely-contained furor, the gray-haired man walked out of the tiny room, followed by Chambers. Vincent scratched his head, unsure of what had really happened, and then he shrugged off the matter and sat heavily on the overturned pail. The prisoner called The Maggot stared at him with malevolent eyes before chewing on his fingernails. Sparrow tried to uncurl himself inside the narrow box, but he failed in the attempt. Sighing heavily, Jack made some small movements in the hopes that the leather whip hadn't broken any bones.

Gosh, Beckett hadn't pulled any punches with his riding crop. Jack was hurting all over, and some of the lashes were bleeding. It would be tempting to sleep off his pain, but the brilliant Captain Sparrow couldn't be bothered by mere trifles such as open cuts. His situation had gotten worse, with the presence of an overweighed Sergeant standing just before his cell. This man had to be removed for Jack to escape, and there wasn't a more efficient way than disgusting Vincent to remain at his post.

"Tell me, gluttonous goaler…"

"Don't call me goaler!" yelled Vincent.

"Have you ever considered the high possibility of you developing cholesterol? I mean, with the large quantity of rum you are pouring inside your body, the risk of your arteries clogging up increase every day and…"

TBC…


	11. A light in the dark

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Smithy: I'm sending you a cyber-hug! I liked the story you've posted in the reviews for _"In vino veritas"_ ;-)

- To Candi: you're welcome!

- The title comes from the 2006 album by Metal Church.

- Marcus Tullius Cicero (106 BC – 43 BC) was a Roman statesman, considered to be one of Rome's greatest orators and prose stylists.

- "_Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxillis, cur, quomodo, quando?"_ is a Latin locution meaning: "Who, what, where, by which means, why, how, when?"

* * *

**Chapter 11: A light in the dark**

_On the H.M.S. Justice's main deck…_

Lieutenant Charon read the authorization letter a second time, helped by the lantern held up by a grumpy soldier while his comrades were gathered around a fuming caldron containing their evening stew. The document was in due form: writing, signature, seal, everything was stock and legal as far as the officer could see. Charon had some previous experience with papers signed by Harbormaster Ledroit and he had recognized the handwriting immediately, so there were no chances this authorization letter would be forged. The request wasn't strange by nature, either: at times, some influent men would ask to see a prisoner to gain information – even though this kind of visits didn't happen frequently aboard pontoons. This kind of sinister jail inspired only disgust and the vast majority of wealthy people preferred to ignore the existence of those horrors, turning a blind eye about the exactions committed within the wooden walls.

Then why, wondered Charon, would this young gentleman want to climb aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_ to see Sparrow, in the middle of the night? The Lieutenant had no doubts about his identity: judging by costume and demeanor, he could be nothing but a noble, a man of honor and influence. And for Charon, it was an opportunity to gain a friend in high places – he had suffered quite a setback recently with Chambers' red buffoon, but maybe this youngster would event the odds a little.

"May I ask why you would like to see this pirate, Lord Burlington?" asked Charon with a detached tone, his cold mask set firmly on his face. He had silently decided to grant the request; but it wouldn't hurt to make a display of his authority to convince his audience that he was an efficient and reliable officer of the King.

The bald Chinese lackey, who had climbed aboard the _Justice_ as well, seemed a bit offended that someone had dared to question his master. The two rowing sailors, who had remained on the longboat, looked at the scene with a moody expression on their faces. But the young gentleman merely smiled, and answered:

"It is a personal matter, Lieutenant Charon."

"Quite so, Milord, but if you'll forgive me, I find it hard that a man of your quality should lower himself to visit a flea-infested pirate in his cell, by a foggy night… unless for a good reason!"

The oriental servant grunted slightly, as if he didn't like Charon's insistence, but his master answered with the confidence of an aristocrat:

"Your vigilance honors you, Lieutenant; therefore your question isn't indiscreet. It is reassuring that a man of your integrity has been put in charge to guard the criminal elements of our society before they face their rightful chastisement. But before I provide you with an answer, can you give me your word that you won't repeat our conversation to anyone?"

Charon's cold mask remained expressionless, but his pride was soothed. Lord Burlington wanted to entrust him with a secret: he had proven to be worth his salt!

"You have my word as an officer and loyal servant to the King, Milord," said the Lieutenant in a pompous tone.

"Very well," said Lord Burlington, lowering his voice in a fake confidence. "This is a matter that involves my family, but I sense that I can trust you. Our degree of noble lineage goes as far as the Crusades, and for generations we have served our country on the sea. A few years ago, alas, my father died in dramatic circumstances: on his way back from the American colonies, pirates attacked his ship while cruising in the Caribbean and he was slain with all his officers and crewmembers."

"I am sorry to hear that, Milord. Please accept my condolences."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Charon. His murder has been a terrible tragedy for my family… and for me. My father was a true hero and he deserved more than a gruesome death at the hands of a bunch of scallywags. But the worse was yet to come: since his ship had sunk at the bottom of the ocean, lost with all hands, there is no proof that he has truly died. No one could testify under oath about his demise so, according to pen-pushing lawyers, I have to wait seven years before my father can be declared "officially dead", in order to claim my inheritance."

"_Money's at the heart of this matter. I knew it!" _thought Charon.

"It wasn't enough for these lawmen that my father had been killed: they had to prevent me from receiving what is legally belonging to me! But I don't have the intention to wait seven years, just to please those leeches. I've travelled the Caribbean Sea to make discreet inquiries and it cost me some time and money, but in the end I found out the name of the pirate captain who had led the rascals responsible for my father's death: Jack Sparrow. Imagine my surprise when I've heard this scoundrel had been arrested in Port Royal, soon to be hanged!"

"Your father will be accordingly avenged, Milord."

"Quite so, and I thank the Heavens for this. But I have to see this man before he walks for the gallows: I want him to sign a declaration testifying that he had indeed killed my father, so my claims for inheritance will be granted by a judge in England. Sparrow is doomed, anyway, so he has no reasons to refuse. Maybe signing this confession will alleviate his conscience a bit, who knows? But since the prisoner is sentenced to death, I had to see him quickly before justice is carried: that is the reason of my late call. You would greatly oblige me, Lieutenant Charon, if you could use of your influence to allow this conversation with Sparrow to happen; you shall not find me ungrateful. "

"Of course, Milord! I cannot refuse anything to a man of your birth, and the letter signed by Harbormaster Ledroit allows you to visit Sparrow. However, to assure your security, I will accompany you to the prisoner's cell as it is located in the lower level of the pontoon. However, your servant will have to remain on the main deck, because unauthorized civilians are not allowed inside the prison."

The Chinaman seemed a bit taken aback, but the young gentleman made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Stay here, _yōngrén_ (servant), and make sure the longboat will be ready when I come back."

"Yes, Master," said the bald oriental all dressed in black, bowing deeply in front of Lord Burlington while retreating in the ship's shadows, walking backwards in tiny steps. Lieutenant Charon grabbed a lantern and half-smiled at the display of authority: this young man knew how to impose his will to subordinates just by lifting a finger. That was real nobility, unlike the red-faced imbecile Chambers had brought with him earlier!

"Don't pay any heed to my servant, Lieutenant Charon. He's a bit overprotective at times."

"Very well, Milord," said the officer, inwardly impressed that Lord Burlington could inspire such loyalty from a lackey. "If Milord will do me the honor, I shall lead the way?"

"Please do, Lieutenant Charon."

The two men disappeared behind a curtain of low clouds, but Wang Tao followed with his eyes Will's silhouette until it vanished. So far, the plan had worked to the perfection: they were aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_, the pretentious officer in charge of this floating garbage had been persuaded of Lord Captain Turner's fake identity and Honorable First Officer Turner of the _Flying Dutchman_ must be on his way to Port Royal's harbor, using the thick fog as cover to jump aboard the captured _Black Pearl II_.

Yes, the "time bomb" was activated, and it would "explode" within an hour to shower the Dragon-King from head to toes with shame. Lord Captain Sparrow's escape would be something unforgettable!

Smiling inwardly, Wang Tao made sure the jar containing the opium tincture was safely stashed in his pocket before approaching the simmering cauldron where the stew was being cooked. The soldiers looked at him warily, as if they suspected the Chinese would ask for a share of their meal: little did they know the polite but determined undercover spy just wanted to offer them a dreamless sleep!

* * *

_Inside the H.M.S. Justice…_

It was Hell, simply Hell.

Will Turner thought he had already been in the world's worst place when Red Hand Pete had tortured him in the _Conqueror_'s orlop deck, but his chivalrous nature was outraged as he witnessed the horrible conditions in which the prisoners were held.

To reach Jack's cell, Lieutenant Charon and the fake Lord Burlington had to cross the pontoon's lower levels, just like Commander Chambers and Cuthbert Beckett had done moments ago. It also meant they had to walk through corridors separating rows of cells where the imprisoned men, women and children were locked up. About twenty persons were crammed in spaces planned for five, making it impossible for the prisoners to lie down or to seat: they had to take turns to get some rest, and food had been distributed very scarcely. Hunger, thirst and heat, mixed with foul odors coming from the sick and the unkempt lower decks, tortured the poor wretches. But it was nothing compared to the terror wrecking their souls: just a day ago, they were attending their affairs and the next thing they knew, they had been thrown in jail under charge of piracy, promised to the rope!

Children were crying, babies were wailing endlessly; the women tried to calm the young ones while men vainly called out to the officer who was walking the corridor nearby their cells:

"Lieutenant Charon! Please listen to me!"

"Lieutenant Charon, have mercy! We're innocents!"

"For the love of God! Can't yu see we have nothin' to do with pirates?" yelled a strongly built man with blond hair. "I'm a blacksmith, for cryin' out loud! It was my cousin Ernie who got hanged for piracy, fifteen years ago!"

"Commander Chambers has no rights to keep us here! I demand to see a judge!"

"Bastards! I'll kill everyone last of ya!" roared a man, his arm extended through the bars of his cell in an attempt to reach out to the officer or the young noble following him.

Lieutenant Charon remained impassible at those cries of innocence, since his heart was as cold as his face. Will, on the other hand, had a very hard time to feign indifference. The pleas of women and children added themselves to those of the men's through a cacophony of coughs, cries and screams, making the young man feel he was walking through a gauntlet of souls held hostage by the ghost of Davy Jones.

"Lieutenant Charon! Please, some water for the children!"

"We're dyin' in here! We're dyin'!"

"Monster! How can you do this to babies?"

"Young Lord!" said an elderly woman to Will. "Please, tell the Lieutenant Charon we're innocents."

"I wanna go home!"

"Mama! Where's Mama?"

Will's hand curled up into a fist, and he was very tempted to punch Charon right on the nose. How could this man turn a deaf ear to the prisoners' pleas? How could he believe that children barely able to walk were pirates' accomplices? This pontoon was nothing but a grotesque display of corrupted justice, and the Lieutenant knew it. But he was too full of himself to concede that he was taking part in a cruel villainy. If Jack's life wasn't at stake, Will would have grab Charon's pistol from his belt and shove the cannon into the man's stomach until the Lieutenant would agree to open the cells. But the young Turner knew he had to keep his cool for his plan to succeed. So he followed suit, his face showing nothing but his ears full of cries and pleas, while inwardly vowing to free every prisoner unjustly held aboard the pontoon.

A woman was crying repetitively: "Help! Somebody please help!"

"Please, Milord!" said a young girl to Will while opening her bodice to show her charms. Her tears had left black mascara tracks on her face. "I'll do anythin' if yu get me outta here!"

"Papa!" called a little boy to a man imprisoned in a cell facing his. "I'll save ya, Papa, don't worry!"

Will swallowed with difficulty the big lump of sorrow blocking his throat.

"Lieutenant Charon, yu're nothin' but a heartless bastard!" yelled a man.

"Chambers is a creep!" added another. "None of us are pirates!"

"Mama, I want my Mama!"

A woman suddenly fainted and her body fell on top of her inmates, who roughly pushed her to the ground. Charon and Will climbed down another ladder to reach the ship's lower level. Here, the smells got even worse: the air was so thick and so foul it was almost impossible for a man to breathe. Sticking to his noble personae, Will got out a silk handkerchief out of his coat's pocket and pressed it against his nose.

"I'm sorry you've had to hear this, Milord, but the prisoners don't have the decency to stay quiet," said Charon. "Every time I go downstairs, I have to listen to these whiners."

"Some of them are quite young, aren't they?" asked Will with a disdainful tone, as if he was talking about calves mixed amongst cattle heading for the slaughterhouse. "Are they all promised for the gallows?"

"Yes, by direct order of Judge Carr, he had signed the death warrants. Only the ones under five years of age will be spared, but they will be sold to slavery or for adoption in America."

A roar of arguments startled the two men, who turned about to see Commandant Chambers with a middle-aged gentleman, whose attire was so ridiculous and gaudy Will thought for a brief instant that someone was playing a joke on him!

"Don't you dare touching me, Chambers!" yelled the man in an outraged voice. "I promise you dire consequences if you damage my costume, you mongrel!"

"Keep your threats to your servants, Milord. Ah, Lieutenant Charon!" exclaimed the Commander, his face brightening a little at the sight of his subordinate. "My guest and I would like to borrow some paper and wax to write a letter: would you be kind enough to give us access to your cabin?"

Since he had no other choices but to obey, Charon fished out a key from one of his uniform's vest and hand it out to Chambers; the Lieutenant's cold face remained expressionless, but he was furious that someone would use his private quarters and use his personal stuff. Will, however, felt his insides turn into ice after he recalled Wang Tao's portrait of the mastermind behind Jack's arrest: _cold blue eyes… thin lips… prominent chin… arrogant… insulting… _The badly-dressed man pushed forward by Chambers fitted that description perfectly!

Will's chocolate-brown eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he understood he was in presence of the Dragon-King.

The red-clothed gentleman jerked his arm free from Chambers' grasp and cast a furious glance at the Commander. Then he pointed his index finger at Will and barked:

"Who is this?"

"This is Lord Burlington, Milord," answered Charon in an icy tone. "He has been granted permission to see prisoner Sparrow."

"WHAT??!" sputtered Chambers' boss. "I have never authorized anyone to see Sparrow! He's my prisoner, all mine and I…"

"Lord Burlington has a document signed and sealed by Harbormaster Ledroit. Thus, he is allowed to see Sparrow," interrupted Charon, happy to get his revenge on the man who had humiliated him earlier.

"Oh, really? Well, when I get my hands on that fool Ledroit, there will be Hell to pay! How dare he have signed authorization letters without my consent! What in the bloody blue blazes do you want to see Sparrow for, anyway?" yelled the rude man in Will's face.

"That is a matter of my own, Milord. Pleased to make your acquaintance, too," answered with dignity the young Turner in a perfect display of self-control. His interlocutor bellowed like a charging bull, but Chambers grabbed his arm again and said in a no-nonsense tone:

"We have business at hand, Milord, and don't you forget it."

"Lemme go, you mutt! You'll get me all wrinkled!"

"Then you should have thought of it instead of parading around on a pontoon wearing your best clothes. It was really useless to dress up before beating Sparrow! Charon, you escort Lord Burlington to Sparrow's cell, you'll find Sergeant Vincent there."

"At your orders, Commandant," replied the stone-faced Lieutenant. Charon was inwardly rejoicing at this sight: his senior officer had compromised himself with a would-be noble while he had good chance of forming an alliance with a true gentleman. _"Cold fish"_ had proven his brains weren't frozen and he would gain his entries in Port Royal's high circles, armed with Lord Burlington's recommendation.

Chambers and the vermillion buffoon climbed the stairs heading upwards, and Charon glanced at the young gentleman who hadn't blinked an eye during the whole confrontation, his features betraying no surprise or fear at the outburst. The Lieutenant complimented himself in his choice of an ally: Lord Burlington had true class. Their future alliance would be rewarding!

"This way, Milord," said Charon, and Will nodded as he followed suit, his mind in turmoil after he had heard Chambers' words about Jack being beaten up.

"_Oh, God, Jack! W__hat have they done to you?"_

* * *

They finally reached the lowest part of the ship and went through a corridor which ended in a cul-de-sac. A fat soldier, with sergeant's stripes sewed on his uniform's vest, was sitting on a small crate nearby a closed door, morosely nursing a leather flask as the moody expression on his face was lightened by a lantern settled on the floor.

"Sergeant Vincent," said Charon severely, "Once again, I am catching you on the act of drinking while on duty."

"Beggin' yur pardon, Lieut'nant!" said the pot-bellied soldier, scrambling on his feet. "Am sorry, Lieut'nant, but the prisoner Sparrow is drivin' me nuts! He keeps on babblin' about nonsense and I know he's insultin' me, even if I cannut make out a word he's sayin'."

Will smiled imperceptibly: some things never changed, did they?

"This is Lord Burlington," said Charon while gesturing to the young Turner. "He's here to see Sparrow about a personal matter. You let him in, and you leave some space so his conversation will remain confidential, do you understand?"

"Am sorry again, Lieut'nant, but I'm s'posed to stay with Sparrow and The Maggot inside the room at all times, 'cept for calls of Nature. Commander Chambers' orders, Sir; that was I was doin' when you arrived, Sir," lied the Sergeant through his teeth.

Charon repressed a growl: he knew Vincent wouldn't move from his post. That imbecile had a great reputation as a boozer and only the fact he respected orders to the letter had allowed him to keep his stripes. Turning his face towards Will, he said with a condescending voice:

"I am sorry, Lord Burlington, but Sergeant Vincent will have to remain nearby during your meeting with Sparrow."

"Oh, but I swear to ye, I won't listen to yur talks, Milord!"

"For your sake, I hope not, Sergeant. Now move your bulk and open the door, Lord Burlington is waiting," said the stern-faced Charon.

Vincent searched for the keys once more, wondering if visiting Sparrow was all the rage amongst the bigwigs. Never would he have imagined that a skinny pirate would attract such attention! But the Sergeant knew he was already in trouble for drinking on the job so he turned the appropriate key inside the lock, and opened the door. In spite of the darkness, Will could see it led to a cramped room holding two barred and narrow boxes, separated only by a short length of space. The unique lantern hanging on one of the room's walls provided a flickering light, a testimony that the candle was reaching its ends.

The Sergeant, with an apologizing look on his round face, entered first in the room and weakly banged his fist against the bars closing the box on the right side.

"Wake up, Sparrow, yu have anuther visitor," grumbled Vincent.

"Who do I have to send _ad padres_ to not be disturbed?" answered a voice inside the box, confirming Will's worst fears: Jack had been locked up in an animal-sized cage.

"Don't use yur prissy words, Sparrow, and behave yurself! 'Tis a lord who wanna sees yu!"

"The red clown again? Gosh, I'd thought he would be disgusted after I went for him hammer and tongs."

"Nope! 'Tis anuther person, a real lord this time."

"Good grief, my cell isn't a drawing room! And this visitor could have left his calling card on a silver platter held by the butler, it is only common courtesy, you know. I really should complain about the quality of those holding premises: the food is repulsive, the service is awful and the beds are quite uncomfortable. Oh well, I guess it's better to get on with it. Send the gentleman in, gaoler!"

"STOP CALLING ME GAOLER!" roared an exasperated Sergeant, but loud coughing from Charon stopped him dead on his tracks. Vincent set his lantern on an overturned pail and went to sit in a corner of the cramped room, hoping the Lieutenant would forget about him.

"I will remain outside this room to give you some privacy, Milord," said Charon to Will. "Once again, I apologize for Vincent's presence, but I doubt his intelligence would be enough to understand a word of what your conversation is about. I will personally escort you upstairs once your meeting with Sparrow is finished."

"I thank you for your help and your diligence, Lieutenant Charon. I would appreciate to have a talk with you when my conversation with Sparrow will be over, if you can spare me a moment."

"I will always have time for you, Milord," said Charon as he saluted before retreating to the corridor. The door closed behind the officer and Will turned around: Vincent was sitting in his corner, trying to discreetly take out his flask from inside his pants' pockets; inside the other cage, a prisoner with dirty black hair seemed to be asleep; the flickering flame inside the lantern on the wall would soon be extinguished, meaning the only remaining source of light would come from the lamp left by the Sergeant on the pail. It was perfect!

Will approached slowly the right-sided box and lowered himself to his knees, so he would be at eye level with the prisoner.

"So, this is Jack Sparrow, the pirate who has murdered my father," said the young man loud enough for Sergeant Vincent to hear. In his cage, the other prisoner didn't move a muscle.

Curled up in the restraining cell, his head resting on his knees, Jack grunted behind the thick curtain of his dreadlocks and braids, feigning annoyance by the presence of another visitor. But in truth, he was amazed by this new event: two members of the gentry wanted to see him in a row? His reputation had certainly grown over the years, making him world-famous and irresistible, but he had never dreamed people would come and see him in the most miserable prison of all the British colonies, just days before his execution. Was there any end to his fame?

"This is I, the inimitable Captain Jack Sparrow," recited Jack, his forehead slowly rising from his knees to show his bruised face. "Pirate Lord of the Caribbean Sea, the bane of the East India Trading Company, the fear and horror of the Royal Navy, nemesis of His Majesty the King of England, vanquisher of monsters and hangmen but not necessarily in that order, the most talented orator of the world since Cicero and the undefeated king of carousers. What can I do for you…"

Jack's breath got suddenly caught inside his throat as his eyes registered who had replaced Cuthbert Beckett in front of his cage: it was William Turner the Second, dressed like a lord and handsome like a prince!

The stupefied pirate looked in amazement at this apparition, and his sentence ended in a strangled word: "…_whelp?_"

A loud grunt was heard from across the room, coming from Vincent: "Mind yur words, Sparrow! 'Tis a lordship yu are talkin' to!"

"Lieutenant Charon has guaranteed your discretion, Sergeant. Was he mistaken?" asked Will, glaring at the drunkard from the corner of his eye. "The petty insults of this prisoner are my business, and I would appreciate if you mind yours by closing your mouth and your ears."

"Aye, aye, M'lord," muttered Vincent, cowering in his corner.

During this short exchange, Jack's powerful brains turned in full gear in spite of the fact that his eyes could hardly believe what they were seeing: _"Will!" _thought the pirate,_ "Will's here! __Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxillis, cur, quomodo, quando?__ Shiver me timbers, me hearties, Will is here! My baby brother is on the pontoon. And he has come to rescue me; of course, he can't resist being a hero so he rushed to my rescue after hearing of my very-temporary imprisonment. He shouldn't have bothered since I would have escaped in a snap, but still I appreciate his concern. Gosh, that kid is as beautiful as ever – and what an outfit! Beats ol' Cuthbert by a thousand nautical miles, so he does! Darn it, I will have to watch his back once he has freed me from this cage, poor Will's too chivalrous to cheat properly in a fight. When we get out of this mess, I'll teach him a trick or two: nobody has been able to prove yet that Captain Jack Sparrow is an ingrate!"_

Jack moved slightly in his cage and the manacles binding his wrist banged against each other with a metallic clang. Will understood the silent message: his friend was shackled on top of being locked up in a cage and under close surveillance. But the young Turner hadn't climbed aboard the pontoon unprepared: he had a few items hidden inside his coat's pockets.

"Captain Sparrow, I wanted to talk to you about my **father**, who disappeared at sea after a fight with your **fellow pirates**," said Will, looking at his friend straight in the eyes each time he used a word with a double meaning.

"Well, **whelp**, I have sunk a lot of vessels during my career," answered Jack, quickly comprehending the improvised code. "Mind telling me in what kind of **ship** your **old man** was in?"

"It was a **fluyt**, named the **"Vliegende Nederlander"**" said Will, translating the name _"Flying Dutchman"_ into the language spoken in the country of Holland. Bootstrap Bill had taught him a few words of Dutch, years ago, and the elder Turner had learned them from Jack during the glorious days of the _Black Pearl_. "I have **learned of your troubles** and I wanted to offer you an **opportunity** to **break free** from your guilty conscience by making you acknowledge your responsibility in my **father**'s demise…"

TBC…


	12. Better ten guilty men escape

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Smithy: I understood that you were mentioning a true story… and I liked it very much! ;-)

- The Bethlem Royal Hospital (Bedlam) of London admitted the mentally ill as early as 1357; it became famous for the patients' terrible living conditions and blatant abuse from staff members and visitors, especially during the 18th century.

- The chapter's title comes from a quote by English jurist Sir William Blackstone (1723 – 1780). The full quote is: _"Better ten guilty persons escape than one innocent suffer"_.

* * *

**Chapter 12****: Better ten guilty persons escape**

_Inside the H.M.S. Justice…_

Marty the pirate had always considered himself a down-to-earth man… and not only because of his short stature!

He had started his maritime career as a cabin boy, evolving into a full-fledged merchant sailor over the years. But in spite of his hard work, Marty had never gotten full wages since his employers considered his short size as a proof of young age, thus he had to be paid like a junior sailor instead of an adult one. He had protested loudly, saying that his height had never stopped him from doing his job and, except for his legs, nothing was short with him – like his courage, his brains or the pleasure he gave to ladies. But every Captain turned a deaf ear to his pleas, and some of them had even said they had been generous enough to give employment to a "freak of Nature". Disgusted by this injustice, Marty had jumped ship, found his way to Tortuga and he had accepted to be part of the eccentric-looking Captain Jack Sparrow's crew in his search for his lost ship and a lost governor's daughter. The rest, as they said, was history.

Marty had never regretted embracing a pirate's career, even though he had been in a lot of risky situations. But being locked up in a cell with six other men – including Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti – aboard a foul-smelling pontoon filled with begging women and children was definitively the worst time of his life. And all the prisoners were promised for the gallows, including the little ones! For a moment, Marty thought that he, his shipmates and the others had fallen prey of lunatics disguised as Royal Marines. But the perspective of the gibbet was real enough to make the most hardened man shake in fear, and desperation was starting to drive some of the prisoners mad.

But strange things had happened in an hour's length of time, troubling the captives' incessant litany of pleas: first, a visit form an absurd-looking, red-clothed gentleman who had walked towards Captain Sparrow's cell downstairs with a smug look on his face… to come back furious and manhandled by Commander Chambers. And then, another visitor had come, this time led by Lieutenant Charon: it had been a young man, dressed like an aristocrat.

Marty wriggled his way towards his cell's door to rest his sweating forehead against the iron bars, in an attempt to cool his shaven head but also to refresh his ideas. His captivity companions hadn't noticed anything odd about the young lord when he had passed by their cell: the three civilians had been too busy pleading for their lives, Cotton had been asleep, Pintel had casted a dirty look in the general direction of the visitor walking down the corridor and Ragetti had been unconscious – punched on the head earlier by Pintel, as the conclusion of another argument. But Marty had clearly seen the young man face the time Charon's lantern had briefly illuminated it and…

"It's impossible," whispered the vertically-challenged pirate, but none of his cellmates heard him.

Marty closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts: the tall aristocrat had dark eyes, handsome features and for an instant he looked just like…

"Will," said Marty under his breath.

He could have sworn the youngster had been Will Turner. Who could forget the devastatingly good-looking lover of Elizabeth Swann?

Marty sighed, and then he shook his head: he was probably hallucinating from food and water deprivation, not to mention inhuman prison conditions. Maybe he was losing his marbles? That wasn't a pleasant thought but then again, it could be his last chance with the hangman. The young lord was probably nothing but a fop with too much time and money in his hands who thought watching the prisoners' distress could be a funny distraction – like some would pay a fee to torment the patients in Bedlam, London's worst hospital for the insane. Will couldn't be here, that was impossible; the only way Marty had to see the young Turner again would be after his death, waiting to be picked up and ferried to the Other Side.

The small pirate stared morosely at the corridor's overlay flooring, even though there was nothing interesting to see there: blood stains and mud had stained the wood and there were gaps between the planks, due to the fact that the floor hadn't been moped for years. It had left gaps, some of them wide enough to slip a hand through the dark holes. Marty supposed that beneath the planks, there was a maintenance tunnel but due to the state of the ship, it certainly hosted nothing but detritus and rats.

… _Wait a minute…_

Marty pressed his forehead against the bars as hard as he could, his eyes widening in shock: he had spotted some movement through the gaps of the rotten floor, between the disjoined planks! He was ready to bet three gold doubloons that something had been slithering beneath the planks, even if he had only seen a glimpse of a rapidly-moving shadow. Was it another hallucination?

… _Movement again! Still under the floor, but closer!_

This time, Marty didn't question the state of his mental health: he had definitively seen something moving through the floor's holes, something that was hiding under the planks. He wasn't afraid, since a man would be a pitiful outlaw if he panicked too easily, but he sure was intrigued by the strange "thing" he had spotted. It was too large to be a rat, unless it was an oversized one!

Suddenly, Marty gasped and only years of fighting prevented him from crying out in surprise: two human eyes were staring at him from one of the floor's holes, close to his cell!

Marty's heart skipped a beat as he recognized those almond-shaped eyes, with pupils shining like twin lakes under the moon…

_Wang Tao!_

The Chinese spy winked at Marty, and then he moved away from the gap to continue his crawling progression beneath the overlay flooring. Wang Tao had decided to use this more-discreet way to reach Lord Captain Sparrow's cell, since his presence in the corridor would have created uproar amongst the prisoners – especially from his shipmates, who would have recognized him immediately. For Lord Captain Turner's plan to work, discretion was the watchword so Wang Tao had decided to adopt a snake-like strategy to cross the corridor without raising attention. But it had been a stroke of luck to have spotted Little Big Man through one of the many floor-holes… and to deliver him a silent message!

Marty the stout but clever pirate understood that he hadn't been hallucinating after all. Wang Tao crawling his way under the corridor's planks and Will Turner's incredible presence aboard the pontoon could only mean one thing: _Captain Jack was about to escape_.

Turning around, Marty glanced at his cellmates. The three civilians were lost in their respective misery, Ragetti was out for the count, Pintel was chewing on his fingernails and Cotton was seated against a wall, lost in Dreamland. Marty grabbed at the old sailor's shirt sleeve and gave it a quick tug; Cotton awoke with a startle to see his friend looming above him.

"Cotton!" whispered the little guy. "Listen up: Jack's gonna break free from this place!"

* * *

_Outside the _H.M.S. Justice_ and nearby the _Black Pearl II_…_

The fog was getting thicker by the minute, and it suited Bill Turner perfectly: under the cover of the low-floating clouds, the _Flying Dutchman_ had discreetly approached Port Royal's harbor. A seaman could have been terribly worried about collision risks, even considering sailing in those busy waters on a foggy night to be suicide. But not for Bootstrap Bill, who had been a sailor all his life; he knew how to maneuver a vessel in any kind of weather and his sharp eyes could make out the ships' phantom silhouettes as acutely as an owl. Besides, his son had entrusted him with a mission and nothing, not even the world's worst hurricane, would stand on his way!

Bill couldn't help but feel prideful at the thought his William would succeed in freeing not only Jack and his crew, but also all the innocent victims of the mysterious lord's wrath. The lad had brought up the perfect plan, and the pirate in Bootstrap couldn't help but rejoice at the affront they were going to give to the local authorities. And yet, his heart was frantic of worry about his son: if anything happened to Will aboard the pontoon, the older man would never forgive himself. Bill had to chase the ghost of Red Hand Pete out of his mind every minute to keep his attention focused on the dangerous move they were going to do.

But so far, luck had been on Bill's side throughout the night: their approach had met no trouble whatsoever, and Port Royal was asleep under a blanket of fog. Instinctively, the elder Turner knew the _Flying Dutchman_ was getting closer to the_ H.M.S. Justice_ and its reluctant neighbor, the_ Black Pearl II_. Any suspicious noise had been muffled by the clouds, meaning the soldiers guarding the capture pirate ship would have no chances in hearing them coming.

"Mister McCarthy!" whispered Bill.

"Aye, Mister Turner?" answered the carpenter, who had been promoted to quartermaster for the duration of their mission.

"Bring the _Dutchman_ to and ready the longboats, we are nearby the _Black Pearl II_! I will seize the ship with eight men, and then wait for Will's signal to embark the prisoners. Remember to stay quiet at all time!"

* * *

_Inside the _H.M.S. Justice_..._

"So that's why you detain some vital information which is the **key** to my future wealth, Sparrow," concluded the fake "Lord Burlington" whiled discreetly slipping a metallic shank through the bars of Jack's narrow box. The pirate captain caught it with dexterity and started working on the locks of his manacles.

"That's quite a story, **whelp**," answered Jack, using double-meaning words as well. "But I'm interested to know which **means** you will employ to **achieve your goal**. I have to warn you, using **violence** won't solve anything. Like the saying goes, why fight when you have **leverage**?"

"I have **no **intentionto employ** violence** on you, Captain Sparrow," said Will, inwardly shuddering in horror at the sight of the numerous bruises marring his friend's face.

"Then what is your **plan**, Milord?"

"Pirates are not reputed to be **brilliant** and you are no exception, Sparrow. You are probably thinking that you are going to **vanish** into thin air, like a **ghost ship**. But you are doomed to find **escape** only at the end of a rope. But provided that you agree to sign a confession I have happened to write on your behalf, I guarantee to soften your last day on Earth with food and drinks…"

"RUM!" exclaimed Jack, his voice loud enough to cover the _"click"_ of the first manacle after it opened.

"Why not, if this is your wish I can grant it. Fresh food, rum, and maybe some female company would be appreciated, too?"

"YEAH!" said Jack, a bit too enthusiastically as the second manacle's lock opened as well. Sergeant Vincent looked at the fake lord and the prisoner above the flask he was nursing and, in his cage, The Maggot moved slightly.

"So, it is settled, then. I happened to have brought along the confession and a portable inkwell. If you'll be kind enough to sign it…"

Will made the movement to search for something tucked inside his deep blue cutaway coat. As on cue, Sergeant Vincent blanched and scrambled on his feet. The fat soldier covered himself with rum in the process, but in his panic he couldn't possibly care less about his blatant negligence of his uniform.

"Milord, no! Yu can't do that!"

"What is it that I can't do, Sergeant?" asked Will curtly.

Vincent rushed towards Jack's imprisoning box, looking in alarm at "Lord Burlington" who had gotten on his feet. Lieutenant Charon had made it clear the visitor could speak with Sparrow, but the Sergeant also had his orders from Commander Chambers: the prisoners had to remain calm and quiet; otherwise it would cost him his insignias. And Sparrow could create mischief with objects as mundane as a piece of paper or an inkwell!

"Beggin' yur pardon, Milord, but it ain't allowed to give any kinda things to prisoners. Pontoon's rules, Milord."

"Then how am I supposed to make Sparrow sign a confession if I can't give him the document and the means to write? Besides, Sergeant, I thought it clear you were prohibited to interfere during my meeting with the prisoner. It is not for my personal amusement that I came aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_ and I would like my stay to be very quick. But your constant interruptions are sure slowing it, and I don't appreciate being told what to do by low-ranking officers. Ah, Lieutenant Charon!" exclaimed Will, looking at a point above Vincent's shoulder.

The Sergeant turned about, expecting to see his commanding officer behind him, but there was nothing except for the closed door of the room. Confused, Vincent turned back to face "Lord Burlington"… just in time to receive the young man fist right in the face! The soldier went out like a light, his body crumpling in a large heap on the dirty floor.

Will sighed in relief, silently thanking his father for helping him to perfect his punching technique during their time of sailing together aboard the _Flying Dutchman_: Bootstrap Bill was well-learned about hand-in-hand combat.

"Will!" exclaimed Jack, flabbergasted by the sight. "You have become a true pirate, whelp! You've punched this big lump of fat quick and nice. I knew my good influence would profit you!"

"If you say so, Jack," said Will. He searched Vincent's body for a few minutes to find the key opening Jack's box, but his thorough inspection led to a major disappointment: the soldier didn't have it on him. No doubts Commander Chambers was keeping that precious key on him, to be absolutely sure the pirate captain wouldn't be able to escape. Finally, Will picked up the Sergeant's sword from his belt and slit it under the bottom bar of the gate closing his friend's cell. One good pull and the sword acted like a lever, lifting the gate up on its hinges: it created a gap wide enough for Jack's slender frame to squeeze through.

"Good move, mate. Old blacksmith trick, but it never fails. Nothing bests thinking like a whelp to open (ungh!) a cell's door, eh?"

"We must hurry, Jack. We have to free all the other prisoners and…"

But Will's voice faltered at the sight of the pirate captain, who had crawled out of the narrow box to remain kneeling on the floor, his face a mask of pain. It was unnerving since Jack was usually as bouncy as a rubber ball, no matter how much alcohol he had in his body or how many blows he had sustained.

The young Turner crouched down to his friend's level, looking worried: "Jack? Are you all right?"

"Just peachy, bro, I'm just peachy. Give me one minute to recover and then we will show those sad specimens of soldiers what we are made of, savvy? Alas, being locked up in a narrow contraption for (ow) a few days has an unfortunate tendency to give a man seated in said contraption some Hell-sent cramps, and right now I experience some difficulties in extending my legs and my back," said Jack, turning his neck and moving his shoulders in an effort to get rid of the pain racking inside his body. "Not to mention that getting beaten up by Beckett Senior didn't exactly improve my condition…"

Will's face paled at those words: "Beckett Senior?"

"Aye, you must have seen him on your way here: scarlet outfit, rude fellow, screaming like a buffoon? (Ungh) Well, that guy is Cutler's genitor and instead of hiding in shame for siring a disgusting lump of mucus in the shape of a man, he somehow got in his stupid head the idea that Junior should be avenged for meeting his doom at the end of my – and yours – cannons. He got wind of my presence around Port Royal and seized my ship by treachery; otherwise he would never have succeeded! And then I found myself trapped in this barred crate while Beckett Senior got his jollies from beating me up with a riding crop, a rather unpleasant experience."

"He'll pay for this, Jack, I swear it to you. But we have pressing matters at hand: all the people locked up in the cells upstairs are to be hanged and I refuse to let this happen. My father must be getting ready to dispose of the soldiers guarding the _Black Pearl II_, and then he will bring it close to the _Justice_. We will transfer the captives from the pontoon to your ship, and then sail far from these waters."

"Will, you can't be serious, mate!" protested Jack, his eyes huge at the thought of a massive jail break. "Haven't you seen the prisoners? There's a bunch of civilians scared out of their wits! Screaming children, weeping women, cursing men! That's not exactly the kind of crew that knows how to creep silently past the soldiers: in fact, they will make enough noise to awaken a regiment!"

"Don't worry about the guards, Jack. Wang Tao had it covered, with the use of opium tincture."

"Wang Tao? I thought he had swum all the way back to China after my arrest. He's still around?"

"Aye, he found the _Dutchman_ cruising near Tortuga and he told me about your troubles. He had the idea to pour this drug into the soldiers' stew, and they must be beginning to feel sleepy after having eaten their evening meal."

"Clever little fellow, that's for sure. I already promised three times to give him a raise, and if we get out of here I will keep my word!"

Jack tried to get up, but failed again: Beckett's riding crop had done damage and his body was hurting all over. He painfully stretched his muscles and his cervical vertebras returned to their normal place with an audible "pop", but the searing-like slashes crisscrossing his arms and legs were impeding his movements. Blood was still seeping from under his shirt and Jack knew he would need to be stitched up like an old blanket to recover. Will turned around and rummaged Vincent's unconscious body again, and then he presented to his friend the Sergeant's flask.

"Rum! Oh Will, you're a prince…" said the Captain of the _Black Pearl II_ just before gulping down in a flash the liquid hidden inside the leather container. The flask was emptied in an instant and Jack felt with pleasure his throat, esophagus and stomach awakening by this Caribbean-distilled nectar. Aah, Captain Jack Sparrow was back on business! But then, he looked a bit embarrassed as he held the empty flask to the young Turner: "Er… You wanted some, maybe?"

Will had a hard time to refrain from laughing. Some things definitively never changed!

"No, but thanks anyway, Jack. I hope this drink will help you because we have to leave now. Charon will be back soon, and I fear Beckett Senior will want another go at beating you up once his talk with Chambers will be over."

"You're right, kid. Just give me a hand and I'll be as springy as a Jack-in-the-box – or, should I rather say, a Jack-out-of-the box. I'm Captain Sparrow and I can do anything, including not being stopped by a prolonged stay inside a torture device built like an animal's cage, savvy?"

Will stood up and held out his hand; Jack grabbed it gratefully and, with their combined efforts, he managed to get on his feet; but, with his wounded state and his compromised sense of equilibrium – which had been damaged years ago by his heavy drinking and numerous ocean voyages –, he almost fell flat on his face. Only Will's iron grip on his arms stopped him from tumbling over Sergeant Vincent's inert body.

"Jack!"

"Ungh! I'm alright, dammit, I'm fine."

Jack was furious at his weakened state: he had had his share of jails and violent treatments in his life, and yet it had never stopped him from running off at full speed from people with bad intentions towards him. Mere bruises had never impeached Captain Sparrow in doing whatever he wanted, in the lines of stealing goods or escaping authorities. As for the collection of scars on his body, bah! The wounds had been trifles, mere trifles for the most famous outlaw of the Caribbean Sea. Getting his tattoos had been more painful, so why on Earth couldn't he be back to his legendary self again? Maybe Beckett's blows had been more severe than he had originally thought. Was it an effect of him getting old? If it were the case, Jack ought to put some extra brainpower in his project to find the Fountain of Youth…

"Jack?"

The young man's voice got the pirate out of his reverie, and Jack looked up to see the concerned eyes of Will Turner staring at him. Gosh, the kid had nerves of iron, for sure; to think he had climbed aboard a pontoon looking like a gentleman fresh out of his grand mansion to feed the guards a cock-and-bull story about needing information to get his dead father's inheritance… Will was as showy as a weedy sea dragon circling inside a bare aquarium, and yet he had managed to convince everyone that he was a noble who wanted to interrogate a prisoner – including Clueless Chambers, Brutal Beckett and Carrion Charon. And it had worked! That impossible, far-fetched plan had succeeded in freeing the great Captain Jack Sparrow out of this mess!

"Are you feeling all right? Can we go now?" asked Will, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

Jack put his hand on the younger Turner's wrist and squeezed it gently.

"Will, I… I don't know what to say and that's a cause for celebration, trust me… I mean, you… you **are** a friend…"

William felt warmth blossoming inside his left breast, under the red scar. For once, Jack had shredded out of his clownish, daredevil personae to let his true self coming out under the dim light of the room. Will had understood a long time ago that Jack's lifestyle and disheveled appearance were nothing but a carapace to protect his heart, so it was a shock to see his friend like this – frail and vulnerable, almost delicate.

It wasn't the first time Will had saved Captain Sparrow from a terrible doom – like at Port Royal's gallows, the Pelegostos Island, Davy Jones' Locker to name a few cases – but Jack had always answered to these rescues with indifference or a sarcastic comment, acting as if it was "normal" from Will to risk life and limbs to save him. He had never thanked the young Turner for his loyalty towards him until that moment, so it had been worth many fights and brushes with death to see Jack acknowledging the true value of friendship… a feeling that was as rare as easy-to-find treasures in the pirates' tough world.

Will smiled at his friend, knowing silence would speak louder than words between the two men; and then, he turned about to check if Sergeant Vincent was still conveniently unconscious. Jack seized the occasion to mop the blood and sweat on his face with his shirt's sleeve…

… But suddenly, a force swept his legs and made him topple over. Jack had barely the time to think he had been the victim of a dizzy spell before another movement grabbed him again and he found himself sitting on the floor, his back pressed hard against iron bars and his neck trapped in a chokehold!

"Goin' somewhere, Sparrow?" hissed The Maggot's voice in his ear.

Will couldn't believe his own eyes: the dark-haired prisoner, the one locked in the other box, had caught the pirate captain and was strangling him through the bars of his cell! The captive had efficiently imprisoned Jack's neck, using the crook of his arm like a noose, and the Captain of the _Black Pearl II_ was starting to feel the effects of the compression: his breath was extremely limited, his vision was getting dimmer and his ears were ringing. It would be a matter of seconds before he would loose consciousness!

"Release him at once!" said Will to Jack's aggressor.

"No chances, pretty boy. My name's The Maggot and I've hear what ya said to Sparrow; who wuld have thought this piece of garbage had friends, eh? Very touching scene, by the way, and congrats fer fooling Charon. But yer luck ran out, pretty boy: either ya open my cell or ya reunion is gonna be short-lived, got it? It's my freedom or his neck, and I'm gonna enjoy breaking it in two like the executioner does. So yu decide, pretty boy, and yu do it snappy – Heh heh! Good choice of words!"

Will cursed himself for not having seen this coming; it was obvious the other prisoner would use any means to get out of his cell as well, including taking Jack hostage. And time was running away, Charon could come back any minute. "Lord Burlington" would have difficulties to explain why Beckett's prime captive was out of his narrow cell, and strangled from behind by another prisoner. Heck, The Maggot could even say he was preventing Jack from escaping, and be granted a pardon from Commander Chambers for this exploit!

"W-Will…" said Jack while struggling weakly against the chokehold. "P-P-Please… don't do it…" The rest of his sentence got lost in a gurgle.

"Shaddupa yur face, Sparrow! Now pretty boy, yu do as I say or yur a friend less, and the escape plan is lost with all hands. So, what says ye?"

Will gritted his teeth in frustration: he had no doubts The Maggot would carry out his threat since he was desperate, capable of anything to flee the rope. The young Turner couldn't let the man kill his friend in front of his eyes, but The Maggot's presence amongst them was likely to compromise the innocent prisoners' chances of being freed from the pontoon.

"Answer me, pretty boy!" snarled The Maggot, tightening his hold on Jack's neck. "If ya value this scarecrow, yu'd better obey before I loose my patience. What says ye?"

TBC…


	13. Than one innocent suffer

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Some details come from the book _"Pirates of the Caribbean: the visual guide"_, edited by DK Limited.

- Again, the chapter's title is from a quote by English jurist Sir William Blackstone (1723 – 1780): _"Better ten guilty persons escape than one innocent suffer"_.

* * *

**Chapter 1****3: Than one innocent suffer**

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters__…_

"There! Here's your bloody letter granting you a captaincy. Happy, now?" barked Cuthbert Beckett as he tossed a piece of paper in the general direction of the Commander.

"Ecstatic, Milord," answered Chambers with a sarcastic grimace. He caught the freshly-written letter between his fingers and started to read it in the earnest, feeling pretty relieved at the thought that he would be the Captain of a proud ship instead of a pen-pusher at Fort Charles, whatever may happen in the future.

"Well you should be, considering a man with your mediocre abilities wouldn't even have become a sailor in the first place. But at least, you'll stop bothering me with your whining! And you'd better keep your yap-trap shut during the mass hanging: I don't want to hear a peep about the poor suffering little children; otherwise you'll be sent back to your kennel with the imprint of my boot's sole on your ass!"

Chambers grunted slightly, he was feeling annoyed by his employer's persistence in treating him like a dog. He was an officer of His Majesty the King, for God's sake; he wasn't a new recruit being put in charge of cleaning the privies! He had to fight down the urge to ram his sword into that insulting mouth, but the red-clothed man still had money, influence, and maybe a few documents proving Chambers' corruption locked up in his safe! The prudent Commander wanted to be sure the coast was clear before getting rid of his boss. It was wiser to let the crimson clown enjoy the hanging of Sparrow and the other wretched prisoners trapped inside the _H.M.S. Justice_: while Beckett would be busy at the gallows, Chambers would make discreet enquiries and search his grand mansion. Surely a few gold coins would loosen the servants' tongues!

"Now, if you'll kindly let me out of this rat-hole you call a cabin, because I have some unfinished business to tend to with that skinny pirate!" growled Beckett, his face almost as red as his costume.

"Not yet, Milord," replied Chambers.

"WHAT?!"

"I want Lieutenant Charon to come and join us."

"Whatever the Hell for?"

"I want him to countersign this document as a witness, Milord. It will guarantee this letter's authenticity, so there won't be any kind of trouble once I claim my captaincy."

"You dare? You think my signature isn't good enough for you?"

"I don't want to take any chances, Milord. You may decide to tear up this document to spite me, and then you'd dangle this captaincy in front of my eyes while I would be forced to remain indefinitely at your orders. You should know by now that if you want to keep your collaborators, it's better to reward them rather than insulting them. Your son knew how to do business: he showered his clerk with gold, and Mercer stood by his side until the end. You want me to act as your dirty-deed-doer, fine – but I have a price, Milord, and it is a commissioned captaincy. Lieutenant Charon will sign this document, or you can spend the rest of the night in this cabin."

Beckett Senior couldn't stop feeling outraged by the Commander suddenly developing a backbone, but he had to admit Chambers was partly right: he lacked his son's talents to recruit valuable partners. Cutler had the gift to rally good men around him, devoted people who would obey his orders as long as gold was poured into their pockets – like Mercer – or who were too clueless to even dare imagine disobeying – like the Royal Marines. Cuthbert Beckett had never learned the needed patience to make deals like a diplomat: why would he, since he had always considered barking an order was the unique way to get something from the lamebrains surrounding him?

But for all his soiling-breeches tendencies, the Commander seemed determined in impeding him from beating up the pirate captain again, if his whim wasn't indulged. A pistol's shot would have permanently corrected Chambers' attitude, but unfortunately Beckett Senior didn't take any weapon with him after he had left his grand mansion – only his riding crop and it was out of reach for the moment. Inwardly vowing to make his minion pay dearly for this discussion, he growled:

"Bring that dead fish in and make him sign this letter in a snap, Chambers! I don't have time to waste with neutered mongrels like you; I want to have another go at Sparrow!"

* * *

_Inside the H.M.S. Justice…_

Vincent's sword was tucked again under the bottom bar of the gate closing the other cell, and once more it helped in lifting a gate up on its hinges. The Maggot crept his way out of his box, but never relinquished the hold he had on his hostage's neck and within minutes, he was looking at Will with venomous eyes, holding Jack against him like a shield.

Will had kind of hoped the prisoner would feel the same discomfort as Jack, like he would be too wrecked by cramps to stand up, but unfortunately The Maggot didn't seem to have suffered much from his stay inside his narrow box. He was probably very flexible, and the fact that he hadn't been beaten up with a whip by Beckett Senior had somehow helped.

"Thanks, pretty boy," hissed the Maggot. "Now, how abbat yu an' I an' Sparrow getting outta this place?"

"You don't understand,'' started Will, trying to make the man see reason. "There are other people aboard this pontoon who will be hanged if we don't help them…"

"Does it looky like I give a damn? They can all go _ding-dong_ at the end o' a rope fur all I care!"

"But a massive jail break would create a diversion, something we need to cover our tracks!"

"You-urg- should listen to the k-kid, Maggot," whispered Jack. "He h-has some… good ideas… at times…"

"Shaddap, Sparrow! Nice try, pretty boy, but I ain't gonna let my chance to break free frum this stinkin' hole go with yur sentimental talks. I know there's a ship outside waitin' for outside and yur gonna take me in! Now take the lead, pretty boy, or I'll crush yur buddy's throat and he'll never talk any kinda bullshit again!"

Jack swallowed as best as the circumstances permitted it, since an anaconda-like force was crushing his larynx. The obnoxious vermin appeared resolute in his idea to prevent air from pouring inside the body of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, as well as irremediably damaging his vocal cords which – as everyone aware of his world-famous reputation knew – were his best weapon against his enemies. A man of his stature just couldn't end as the Mute Captain Sparrow! What would become of his fame, his reputation, his name, his…?

Will saw Jack's eyes rolling wildly in their sockets and he couldn't help but let a sigh escape from his lips: it would have been easier if he had been taken hostage, instead of Jack! With his supernatural abilities, he would have escape from The Maggot's clutches in a flash, and they would have been able to carry on their plan. It was the first time in his life that Will regretted not to not have being the captured one. But it was useless to dwell in the past, and his friend's safety was at stake.

"Very well," conceded the young Turner, in the hopes to buy some time. "I will take you to the main deck."

"Good thinkin', pretty boy! Let's go!"

Will turned about and stepped over Sergeant Vincent's prone body just before opening the holding room's door. Much to his relief, there wasn't anybody wearing a red uniform on sight but then again, with the gloomy light provided by the very few lanterns, there was nothing to be seen in the corridor except shadows…

_A m__oving shadow?_

Will repressed a start, but The Maggot's piercing eyes had spotted the movement.

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" snarled The Maggot, spewing saliva all over Jack's shoulder. He tightened his hold on the pirate captain's neck as a precaution.

"Nothing," was the young man's curt answer.

"Yu think I a fool? Don't yu try lyin' to me!"

"I am not!" shot Will Turner back. "There is nothing out there, thanks goodness. With the noise you are making, it will be a miracle if we can reach the stairs unnoticed!"

The Maggot grunted, and then he walked towards the door – deliberately stepping on Vincent's back in the process –, his arm still firmly wrapped around Jack's throat.

"Move aside, pretty boy, I wanna make sure the coast is clear. If yu lied, Sparrow's a goner, got it?"

Will took a step back and The Maggot took a peek at the gloomy corridor: apparently, Sparrow's accomplice had been telling the truth. There was nothing there and the corridor was too narrow for a man, like a clumsy Redcoat or a bothersome officer, to hide in the corners. He opened his mouth to order Will to get a move on… just before something hit him square in the forehead! The Maggot saw brilliant stars exploding before his eyes, just before he dropped Jack and fell on his back, right on top of Sergeant Vincent, out like a light. His last thought before loosing consciousness was that a ghost had punched him.

Suddenly freed from the belligerent prisoner's hold on him, Jack toppled over and he would have fallen as well if Will hadn't grabbed his arm in an iron grip. Blessed air finally entered his hurting throat, and in the record time of four seconds Jack's vocal chords started working again:

"Whoa! That was a clean close shave (cough). Who would have thought this ringed worm had so much strength within? To think he had dared to raise a foul-smelling hand on me, the absolute Captain Jack Sparrow! He has also threatened my melodious-sounding voice and that is a most heinous crime, the one deserving no kind of forgiveness whatsoever. (Ow) Right now I am torn between the various choices of disposing this rascal: should I hang him from the _Black Pearl II_'s mainmast, gut him before feeding him to the sharks, or have him trampled by my men until death and then use his remains as angling bait? Hum, I'm undecided…"

"Jack! Let's not waste more time with this man. We've got to get out of this pontoon right now!"

"Well spoken, mate, but I'd like to know how in the world (cough) you have managed to knock down this overgrown larva without batting an eyelid!" said the slender pirate while staggering on his feet.

"I can't take the credit for this action, Jack. He did all the work," answered Will, pointing at something in the darkened corridor. The pirate captain followed with his eyes and then he gave a small gasp as he made out the almost-invisible silhouette of a man, clothed in black from head to toes and who was standing close to a wall. Only the man's piercing eyes were visible above the black mask he was wearing on his face.

"Mister Wang Tao? Is that you?" said Jack incredulously.

"Greetings, Lord Captain Sparrow," answered the Chinese spy with a small bow of the head, his voice muffled by the mask. "I am pleased to see your stay in these nauseating premises hadn't altered your physical being and that you are in shape to give terrible retributions to your enemies."

"Bah! It would take more than sitting three days and an equivalent number of nights in a narrow box to stop me from flying out of this place. I am Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything! But I have to compliment you for finding the right ally with the right means, Mister Wang Tao (ungh). Once we're back on the _Black Pearl II_, I will give you a raise as a reward for your fast thinking – and I mean to do it, this time!"

"That is most generous of you, Lord Captain Sparrow."

"How did you manage to bash The Maggot's head, by the way?"

"Is it his name? How appropriate! Well, I did happen to have packed a few metallic marbles before climbing aboard this dishonorable ship: when thrown with the appropriate speed and direction, they have quite an impact on any obstacles having the effrontery to stand on the way to freedom! I hope you will forgive my indiscretion but I overheard your recent conversation with Lord Captain Turner about choosing a way to seal this scoundrel's fate. Would you like me to put a definitive hand in this vermin-like life?"

"Jack!" interrupted Will. "We have no time for this. My father's waiting for us. We have to free the other prisoners and leave before Lieutenant Charon notices anything suspicious."

"So I've heard your coded message correctly, kid? Ol' Bootstrap is around, with the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"He has probably finished with the soldiers guarding the _Black Pearl II_ and he must be sailing close to the _Justice_ by now. Yes, that's right: we will leave Port Royal's harbor with your ship, mine, your crewmembers and all the prisoners. Let's lock up The Maggot in the holding room along with Sergeant Vincent: the door is thick and he won't be heard if he tries to raise the alarm by making a racket. Then we will free the other captives, and head for the main deck. Mister Wang Tao, did you succeed in pouring the opium tincture in the soldiers' stew before coming here?"

"Indeed, Lord Captain Turner, and the red uniform warriors must be feeling pretty sleepy. On my way to Lord Captain Sparrow's cell, I have managed to give a signal to Little Big Man; he has probably warned his cellmates about an upcoming liberation, bringing hope to their companions of misery."

"Well done!"

"Oh thank you, Most Honored Commander of the Soul Vessel. Your appreciation is invaluable to my stupid and indiscreet being."

"You think too harshly of yourself, Mister Wang Tao, but now isn't the time to argue about it," said Will. "Give me a hand in locking this door, let's grab Vincent's sword and pistol, and then we will leave the _H.M.S. Justice_ following our evacuation plan..."

"…Our strategic withdrawal," corrected the Chinaman.

"In other words: let's get out of here!" concluded Jack.

* * *

_Outside the _H.M.S. Justice_ and aboard the _Black Pearl II_…_

Bootstrap Bill Turner complimented himself: discreetly seizing the _Black Pearl II_ had been a piece of cake and there had been no victims, neither amongst his men or the Red Coats!

Thanks to the thick fog and the _Flying Dutchman_'s navigability, Bill and his men had been able to get close to the captured pirate ship, and then they had used two longboats to climb aboard. The soldiers on lookout duty, exhausted by long hours and boredom, had never heard them coming until it had been too late. Following Will's earlier orders, the elder Turner and his men had silently knocked the guards unconscious, using their swords' and pistols' pommels, before rushing downstairs to make sure that any remaining uniforms would be sent to Dreamland as well. Soon afterwards, the clubbed soldiers' bodies had been piled in a longboat – minus its oars –, which had been kicked afloat in the general direction of Port Royal's harbor. No doubts that, when the soldiers would regain consciousness, they would have a hard time finding their way back to the harbor with the intention of raising the alarm, especially in a foggy night and without any means of propulsion. It would give Will and the others more time to flee the pontoon without worrying about reinforcements coming from ashore.

Bill rushed to starboard, took one of the soldiers' lanterns, raised it and quickly moved his hand three times in front of the illuminated glass panels. The _Flying Dutchman_ was very close and he knew McCarthy and the other crewmembers that had remained on the ghost ship would spot his signals, in spite of the fog. There! A faint light answered, blinking three times as well under the whiteness of a cloud. McCarthy had understood that Bootstrap Bill and his volunteers had succeeded in seizing the _Black Pearl II_, and they would move it close to the pontoon for the prisoners to embark on the ship leading to their freedom.

The elder Turner had been worried about the _Black Pearl II_'s huge anchor: if it had been dropped in the harbor's waters, his men would have to raise it and their small boarding party wouldn't have been enough to pull at the thick cable all together. But fortunately, the anchor hadn't been dropped: it had remained tied to the cathead, and only a few easily-cut ropes tied to smaller boats had prevented the pirate ship from drifting.

Bill grabbed the _Black Pearl II_'s wheel while a few sailors climbed the ratlines to reach the yard-arms. The black sheets would be deployed in a few minutes and Captain Sparrow's vessel would soon stand next to the pontoon, getting ready to receive its cargo of freed prisoners.

* * *

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" asked Lieutenant Charon in his most icy tone. He had been on his way downstairs to check if Lord Burlington had finished his conversation with Sparrow when a soldier yawning his head off had come to warn him about _"Commander Chambers and his guest" _wanted to have a talk with him; Charon hadn't appreciated this interruption, and he had punished the soldier for expressing tiredness on duty, before heading to his cabin. Strangely, the soldier hadn't expressed dismay or anger for his punishment: he had just yawned again and Charon had wondered if he was somehow loosing his touch.

Chambers knew he was in a delicate situation: Lord Beckett was furious and Charon didn't seem in the proper mood to listen to his demands. But he had to convince the Lieutenant to countersign the letter; otherwise he would never be certain to acquire his captaincy in the near future, since his employer had too many secrets and lies to be trusted.

"Ah, yes, Lieutenant, thank you for coming so promptly. I have a favor to ask you and, as a fellow soldier, I hope you will accept."

"A favor, Sir?" asked Charon, standing to attention with the rigidity of an ice sculpture. Another junior officer would have jumped on the occasion to get the upper hand on his commander, but Charon wasn't interested in gaining Chambers' favor. He was focused on becoming the new friend of Lord Burlington, who was a real gentleman – unlike the red toad fuming behind the cabin's small desk. Only the fact Chambers outranked Charon forced him to talk to the Commander; otherwise, the Lieutenant wouldn't have even bothered to notice this looser.

"Yes. You see, Lord Cuthbert Beckett and I have concluded a deal. This document is our written acknowledgement of it, and I would like you to act as a witness by countersigning it."

"A witness, Sir? I am not sure my signature would be enough. For a legal document, it would be best to ask your notary for…"

"What in the world kind of a stupid fool are you?" roared Beckett, his face getting the color of a patient suffering from apoplexy. "Do you think I want our business to be done in front of those legal parasites?"

Charon's livid face lost its last remaining colors under the insult, and Chambers turned round to yell in his employer's face:

"Shut up, damn you!"

"I'll shut up when I want! You forget who is paying you!"

"God damn your soul, if you don't keep quiet…"

"I am sorry Sir, but I decline your offer," said Charon, locking his disdainful eyes into Chambers' frantic ones. I fail to see an advantage in witnessing any kind of business you have concluded with this… person. I have a pontoon to keep under control and prisoners to watch, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Lieutenant Charon, please!" said Chambers, knowing he acted like a beggar but he had no other choices. "I know how much you hate your post here aboard the _Justice_, so let's make a deal: if you accept to be my witness, I will pull some strings and you will never step foot on the pontoon's deck again. Be reasonable man, appending your signature won't take more than a minute!"

Charon was about to say what exactly the Commander could do with his proposition, but his natural-born tendency to scheme overran his anger. That imbecile Chambers could get him out of this place, so he would have the needed freedom to walk down the streets of Port Royal. And there, he would manage to meet Lord Burlington by "pure coincidence"... Exchange a few words with him… The young noble could invite him to a party he had organized in his brand-new mansion… Introduce him to some influential friends of his…

A very cold smile spread on the Lieutenant's lips: "Very well, Sir, I accept as a favor to a loyal servant of the King to another!"

* * *

_Inside the H.M.S. Justice…_

Jack, Will and Wang Tao walked down the corridor leading to the prisoners' cages. Jack was equipped with Sergeant Vincent's sword and pistol and he was feeling more at ease with some portable arguments in his hands. However, he was still hurting a lot from Beckett's whip strikes and he found it more and more difficult to keep his balance. Will remained at his side, ready to give him some support, but Jack was a proud man and he refused to admit he could need help, not even to himself.

Will silently hoped Marty the short pirate had enough time to warn the others about what was about to happen. On his way to Jack's cell, he had noticed Marty had been locked up with Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti. Cotton was a reliable man but the "odd couple" (to quote Wang Tao) had the unfortunate habit to start bickering in the worst situation, and silence was desperately needed for his plan!

The three men climbed the ladder heading for the upper floor; as soon as they appeared, the captives started screaming and begging again:

"Young Lord! Please, have mercy!"

"Mama!"

"Captain Sparrow, izzat yu?" asked an incredulous Pintel.

"We're no pirates! We don't deserve the rope!"

"This is a nightmare! I can't be hanged for my brother-in-law's actions!"

"Captain Sparrow, you've made it! Captain, over here!" yelled Marty from his cage, but he nearly got crushed by his cellmates' eagerness to take a look at the strange new visitors who, according to the short pirate, would open the gates and get them out of this hellish place.

"Hey, it's Captain Jack!" said Ragetti, looking genuinely happy to see his commander again. "Wonder how he had gotten out of jail…"

"Help us! We're innocents!"

"Oh Lord, please deliver us from those demons…" moaned a disheveled woman.

"I wanna go home!" wailed a red-haired little girl with freckles all over her face.

"Captain Sparrow! Please, take me with you!" yelled a man, and Jack had a shock when he realized it was Private Tobias calling out to him. The disgraced soldier had been stripped of his uniform and his belly was showing from under a too-short shirt and a pair of torn pants; he also sported some spectacular bruises on his face, a testimony that some of the captives hadn't been too overjoyed to learn about his former duty as a prison warden.

"Tubby Toby!" said Jack under his breath. "Well, I'd be!"

"Jack, those people are desperate and scared out of their wits," said Will. "But we need them to be quiet! Even if the soldiers are drugged, there is still the matter of Beckett, Chambers and Charon lurking around – and they certainly won't have any scruple to fire a pistol amongst this crowd! How are we going to calm them down?"

"How, my dear William? (Cough) You truly don't know how? Ah, there are still some gaps in your pirate's education, as I can see. But do not worry about it; I will complete your formation with my vast knowledge and unbeatable wisdom, gathered across the Seven Seas during my illustrious career. In the meantime…"

Jack grabbed the Sergeant's pistol he had tucked in his belt and fired the weapon in the direction of the wooden floor. The bullet broke one of the shrinking planks, sending shards flying in the air. The detonation made everybody jump in fright, efficiently interrupting the captives' cries and screams. Will was about to protest for this flagrant demonstration of indiscretion, but Jack beat him to it by proclaiming in a stentorian voice:

"Listen up, you lot! I am the unyielding Captain Jack Sparrow! Amongst my various titles, there are: Pirate Lord of the Caribbean, vanquisher of the Kraken, unique escapee of Davy Jones' Locker, absolute opponent to the East India Trading Company (ow), sworn enemy of any kind of authority and all-time loather of Red Coats. I have been thrown into the belly of this maritime disgrace out of an act of perverse treachery, but as you can see I have recently escaped from my cell by a little intervention from this powerful friend of mine, and a very able spy who comes in from the East. (Ungh) The man responsible for your imprisonment is Lord Cuthbert Beckett; he's an absolute bastard, so don't you waste your time thinking innocence, fairness of face or young age will somehow melt his heart of stone. He wants your deaths, plain and simple, and he'll get them by any means possible – including the corruption of Royal Marines, the local governor, and the spineless commander of Fort Charles. But my powerful friend here," added Jack while putting his hand on Will's shoulder, "had the good idea to provide a fast-under-the-wind vessel which is currently sailing close to this supposedly-impregnable floating fortress (cough), waiting to welcome passengers before heading out for ultimate freedom."

A stunned silence followed this declaration, and the jailed prisoners turned round, shining eyes towards the scruffy-looking pirate flanked by the young noble and the strange man clad in black. Even though they couldn't understand half of Jack's fancy vocabulary, one word had definitively caught their attention: _freedom_.

"So here is my proposition," added Jack with haughtiness worthy of an admiral posing for a portrait. "You lot keep your mouths shut and obey **my** orders to the letter, and I will guide you to the open seas and with an inimitable grace and assurance (cough). You will be remembered as the prisoners who have escaped from Beckett's clutches and your names will be written in golden letters in history's books. On the other hand, if one of you starts to feel a bit of cowardice invading his or her bones, or tries to delay us by talking nonsense in the lines of: _"We should try to plead with Beckett",_ he or she will get thrown back in those cells so fast, it will make your head swim. Do we have an accord?"

TBC…


	14. The Great Escape

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- This chapter's title comes from the book _"The Great Escape"_, written in 1950 by Australian writer Paul Brickhill (1916–1991). It was made into a movie in 1963, starring Steve McQueen and Charles Bronson.

- The fairy tale of_"The Three Little Pigs"_ had been printed since 1840 but the story itself is believed to be much older. Walt Disney turned the tale into an award-winning cartoon in 1933.

- Wang Tao's proverb comes from Wikiquote.

- Jack is quoting _"Hamlet"_, act 5, scene 2, and _"Macbeth"_, act 2, scene 3; both plays were written by William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616).

* * *

**Chapter 14****: the Great Escape**

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters__…_

"What was that?" asked Cuthbert Beckett, his eyes wide in abject fear. "It sounded like a pistol's shot!"

"Don't be absurd!" answered Chambers. "The prisoners cannot escape from their cells, and the guards wouldn't shot their muskets simply out of boredom. In spite of what you may think, Milord, my soldiers are good men who know their business."

"What was that sound, then?"

"You obviously don't have a lot of experience with sailing and ships," said Chambers, happy to have the advantage over his boss for a change. "There are always loud sounds aboard due to the fact that sometimes, sailors have to move heavy loads like crates, barrels, or even guns. You should get more acquainted with the life of the working class, Milord!"

"You want me to lower myself and get acquainted with those smelly cockroaches? Have you forgotten who I am? You will pay for this insolence, and…"

"Could we get on with this signature?" asked an annoyed Charon. As much as he had enjoyed watching his senior officer begging for his help the Lieutenant was in a hurry to get back on the main deck: if he fiddled for too long, he would miss the chance to bid good-by to Lord Burlington! And there was also the matter of those yawning soldiers that nagged his mind. Charon didn't have a high opinion of his men, but he knew they feared the whip too much to dare sleeping on the job.

"Yes, fine!" answered Chambers, blushing slightly. He hated the idea of being indebted to the cold-hearted Lieutenant, who had always managed to unnerve him, but he didn't have any other choice for the moment. "Now, Milord, if you would be obliging enough to add an extra paragraph on this letter…"

* * *

_Inside the _H.M.S. Justice_…_

Incredibly, Jack's eloquence had done wonders in calming down the captive crowd. Despite their dismay, the vast majority of the prisoners had grown up in the streets and they had learned at an early age to seize the opportunities at hand. Even those too tired or too frightened followed suit and the argumentative ones kept quiet – including Pintel and Ragetti, who for all their dumbness knew better than to discuss during a massive jail break.

Wang Tao used his thin daggers to pick the locks and within a few minutes, the prisoners were out of their cells, embracing loved ones or painfully refraining from shouting out of joy. The men grabbed every available item – like empty bowls or chains – to use them as defensive weapons, while some women hastily nursed babies to prevent them from wailing. The children, wise beyond their years, clung to their parents' clothes but remained silent: they knew monsters were still at large and only the leadership of _"the funny-looking man with the big mouth" _would assure their freedom. As for the blushing maidens, they didn't have to be asked twice to follow the handsome young gentleman who happened to be Captain Sparrow's friend!

Jack and Will took the lead, and the prisoners left the _Justice_'s bowels to climb the stairs heading for the upper decks. Marty, Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti guarded the sides, making sure no one would wander in the wrong direction or make too much noise. Murtogg, Mullroy, ex-Private Tobias were amongst the last ones to leave the goals while Wang Tao brought up the rear, holding a dagger in his hand. Will had discreetly asked him to keep an eye on the disgraced soldier, and the Chinaman was ready to strike Tobias at the first sign of treason.

The strange horde quickly walked its ways upstairs and Will was holding his breath, silently praying they would reach the main deck without running into trouble. In spite of the order of paramount importance to keep quiet at all times, the crowd's footsteps echoed through the pontoon's badly-lit narrow corridors and there was always the danger of a man stumbling in the dark, dragging a few people down with him. The freed captives were mere civilians, not professional outlaws so they lacked the necessary formation in escaping prisons. But fortunately, so far the only uniforms they had met were sprawled on tables or on the floor, sleeping their heads off – thanks to Wang Tao's initiative with the opium tincture, and Jack had picked up another pistol and two daggers on the way.

Finally, the two hundred or so persons found the flight of stairs which would take them to the outside. But something caught Jack's attention: at the end of a corridor next to the way to freedom was a door with a small wooden panel nailed on it, which read: _"Officer on duty"_.

"Well, well, well, what do we have in here?" asked Jack with a smile showing all his gold-and-silver teeth.

"What do you mean?" whispered Will.

"To perfect your pirate's education, kid: I am talking about this door, which usually closes a room designed to be an office for the pontoon's officer. In this case, it means our unloved Lieutenant Charon is probably inside, and now would be the appropriate time to have a chat with this rotten fish…"

"Jack, you can't be serious!" protested the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. "We can't waste time on your personal vendettas. We have to get those people out of here, right now!"

"Shh, William, listen…" said Jack, putting his index finger on his friend's lips while gesturing towards the office with a flourish of his other hand. Muffled sounds came from the closed door, and Will's eyes widened as he recognized the harsh barking of their nemesis, along with Chambers' more distinguished voice and Charon's icy tone.

"Oh God, Jack! Beckett is in this office, along with Chambers and the Lieutenant!"

"That's correct. Neptune has smiled upon us tonight!"

"What do you mean? They can discover us any moment!"

"Ah, but it won't be the case if someone with an incredible daredevil's attitude would deftly lock them inside the office, savvy? With the soldiers sleeping off their drug, it'll take a long time before our three enemies would be freed and then start their pitiful attempt to run after us."

"But how do you plan to do this, Jack? We don't have the key to this office."

"Don't you worry about such a small detail, kiddo. Just busy yourself in transferring these good persons following us at all speed on my marvelous ship, while I deal with the three little pigs holed up in their pen."

"Are you sure? I don't want anything to happen to you."

Jack gave his best sarcastic smile to hide the appreciation he felt about Will's concern and he said, showing the weapons tucked in his belt:

"I am the notorious Captain Sparrow and I can do anything! Now, off you go!"

Will sighed, and then he motioned to the captives to follow him as he climbed up the stairs; time was a decisive factor in his plan and they had to jump aboard the _Black Pearl II_'s board at all haste, otherwise his father might get worried and take the wrong decision. If Jack could lock up the pontoon's senior officers and Beckett in the same room, more power to him: it would remove three major obstacles!

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s main deck…_

Will reached the hatch at the top of the stairs, and he took a peek at the main deck: it was deserted, apart from the littered bodies of soldiers who had obviously fallen asleep on the spot, their limbs and weapons lying hazardously on the wooden floor. Only a few lanterns had been left lightened, the fog had thickened even more, and there wasn't a sound to be heard apart from the Redcoats' snoring. The young Turner smiled inwardly: if Jack succeeded in trapping Beckett, Chambers and Charon, the prisoners would vanish like ghosts and no one would be the wiser!

He turned around and gestured to Marty, who was the closest to him.

"Listen, Marty: the coast is clear, so pass the word: the _Black Pearl II_ will here soon, with a gangplank to let us embark on it. Every prisoner will have his or her turn to climb onboard, so there's no need to rush or to panic. Tell those people we still have to be very quiet for the operation to work, since our success depends on our silence. Make sure everyone understands, and then meet me on the main deck. Got it?"

"Yep, Will! You can rely on me."

"Thank you, mate."

While the short pirate whispered the orders to the column of escapees, Will climbed on the deck and, taking care of not bumping into the prone body of a soldier, he grabbed at a discarded lantern and reached the Justice's rail. With the fog, it was almost impossible for him to see his hands in front of his face, but he knew from experience that Port Royal's weather could change in a snap. That thick blanket of clouds could disappear in a moment and that could thwart his plan!

Will raised the lantern and waved his hand in front of it, four times; instantly, four flashes of light blinked under the fog and this sight brought much hope to the young man. That was the agreed signal to warn his father that he had succeeded in freeing Jack and the prisoners, while Bootstrap Bill informed he had managed to seize the _Black Pearl II_. A short moment after, the huge silhouette of a dark ship emerged from the cloud bank to draw alongside the pontoon, as quickly and as silently as if it had been the _Flying Dutchman_ maneuvering.

The fog prevented to see clearly the men aboard the _Black Pearl II_, but Will spotted the tall, burly silhouette of Bootstrap Bill standing at the helm, behind the wheel. The young man waved at his father, who raised his arm in acknowledgement. A gangplank emerged from the _Black Pearl II_'s rail to gently fall on the pontoon's deck. Will quickly examined the temporary footbridge to make sure of its solidity, and then he smiled: the construction was very thorough, made with carefully-nailed solid wood, and there was even a handrail made by a rope tied to some banisters – courtesy of Joel McCarthy, the _Dutchman_'s carpenter.

Will secured the gangplank to the main deck with a few tied ropes, and then he motioned towards the deck's opening; as on cue, Marty shoot out of the hatch, followed by his accomplices and the prisoners. One or two of them nearly stumbled over the slumbering soldiers, but recovered quickly to steal their weapons in case of emergency. The young Turner gestured towards the gangplank, and Marty said:

"I'll go first, Will. The kiddies won't be afraid if they see me crossing the gap between the pontoon and the _Black Pearl II_, and if the little ones are willing to walk on that footbridge, the women will do it too."

"You're right! Off you go, then."

At the same moment, a shadow dove from the _H.M.S. Justice_'s mainmast to land, fluttering, on Cotton's shoulder. It was the blue-and-yellow parrot, which had remained perched on the pontoon's yard-arms after Cotton had been locked up with the other crewmembers. The bird expressed its happiness to be reunited with its master by squawking:

"_Aack! Wind in your sails!"_

"Hey, buddy, long time no see!" said Will. "We couldn't decently leave the _Justice_ without you. All right, listen up, people! Marty here will cross the distance between the pontoon and Captain Sparrow's ship to show you the gangplank is absolutely safe. Women and children will follow, and men will go on last. Do not make noise under any circumstances, do you hear me?"

"Is there no other way to get aboard dat other ship?" whispered a nervous Tobias, and Wang Tao's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you questioning Lord Captain Turner's orders, dishonored and overweight military man?"

"N-No! I… I'm not comfortable about walkin' on a plank over a gap in the fog …"

"_Shì shàng wú nán shì, zh__ǐ__ pà y__ǒ__u xīn rén, _you must persevere to accomplish seemingly impossible tasks", said Wang Tao firmly. "A poor example of a soldier like you should profit from Lord Captain Turner's example: when there's a will, there's a way."

"Aye," said Marty in approval, winking at the young Turner. "When there's a _**Will**_, there's a way!"

* * *

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's office…_

The Lieutenant disdainfully signed his name at the bottom of the page, making him the official witness of the agreement concluded between Cuthbert Beckett and Bartholomew Chambers, before throwing the quill he had used on the table. He couldn't possibly care less if this gesture would let some ink drop on the paper: he had wasted enough time to worry about smudges but if he had missed Lord Burlington's departure because of this pair of idiots, they would pay dearly!

"T-Thank you, Lieutenant," stuttered Chambers, "You have been very helpful."

"My pleasure, Sir" answered Charon with his most insincere smile, unaware that the door behind him was opening slowly. "May I take my leave, Sir?"

"Y-Y-Yes, absolutely, and thank you again, Lieutenant."

Charon turned about to flee his own office with its two unwanted guests… just to find himself staring at a pair of pistols' ends, directed right at his face! He barely had the time to be surprised before Jack bashed his head with one quick swift of a pommel. The Lieutenant went out like a light, falling on the dirty floor of his own cabin with an _"Aoh!"_ escaping from his lips.

"Knock, knock! Who's there? Goat. Goat who? Goat to the door and find out!" said Jack as he pointed both his pistols on Commander Chambers and Beckett.

Things looked brighter – and safer – for the auto-proclaimed most famous pirate of the world since he had evened the odds, as he couldn't have kept three men at a respectful distance with only two pistols. But Charon was currently seeing stars behind his closed lids, so Jack would have all the needed time to have a nice talk with his two favorite enemies.

"SPARROW!" blurted Beckett Senior, his reddish features turning into a sickly green. Chambers had paled as if he had seen a ghost. "But how in the world…?"

"Tsk, tsk, did you honestly think your pitiful cage would be enough to keep a smart bird like me?" asked Jack, grinning like a madman. "My last name is Sparrow, you imbecile, meaning I am as resourceful as those plump, brown-grey birds with powerful beaks which always manage to escape from pretentious, large and smelly pigs like you. I'm too witty, too quicksilver and too loved to remain for too long in this floating bucket of garbage you have the nerve to call a pontoon. As we speak, a friend of mine helped by an associate of mine are currently evacuating the victims of your greediness, to make them hop aboard my extraordinary ship led by an acquaintance of mine who happens to be a good pirate, too. Meaning that in a few minutes, there won't be a rat aboard the _Justice_ apart from you three hogs and a bunch of sleeping soldiers, and you're going to be the laughing stock of the Caribbean. How do you like that?"

"What?!" yelled Chambers. He had a dangerous move towards the sword hanging from his belt but a movement from Jack's pistol made him freeze on the spot.

"You've heard me perfectly well, Clueless Chambers! Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't do things by half: when he escapes from jail, he takes with him all his fellow cellmates, including those who are too young to comprehend his magnificent legend. You will soon be famous across the oceans as the Commander who had let a whole barge of prisoners fleeing the humid hay of royal gaols, right under your snouts. Yep, I'm taking with me all the defamed persons you have accused of being pirates: the civilians, the ladies, the miniature ones and even that soldier who has been unjustly punished for procuring me a flagon of rum during my stay in Port Royal's prison. Tubby Toby was to be led for the gallows, after he had obeyed _**my**_ orders? Nothing doing! He doesn't know it yet, but I have promoted him as my official cup-bearer."

Cuthbert Beckett's eyes had gotten so large it looked like they were going to escape from their sockets. His mind reeled with the potential implications of Jack's diatribe, making his thoughts turn inside his skull like a top spin: _his prized prisoner escaping the rope… all the pirates' accomplices fleeing from the pontoon… the _Black Pearl II_ heading for the open sea instead of being blown to kingdom come… and him being faced with ridicule, after the citizens of Port Royal learn about this great escape… _If not for the pistol pointed directly at his face, he would have exploded in anger with the violence of an exploding volcano!

Chambers wasn't faring any better; he was already picturing himself facing another court martial, having to answer about a flagrant abuse of power leading to the escape of a notorious outlaw, along with his ship and about a third of Port Royal's population. How could he ever exonerate his actions? The judges would never believe he had been coerced by Beckett. They would only keep in mind his corruption, and it could mean the rope for him as well. That very idea was so frightful that, in his panic, Chambers didn't notice he had soiled his breeches once again.

"L-L-Listen, S-Sparrow," stuttered the Commander, "Maybe we could strike a deal…"

"Honestly, Barty, you should have known better than to trust a member of the Beckett's putrefied family tree. In a way, you remind me of Norrrington, that poor fool who has bargained with Cutler to regain his Commodore's insignias. He was too desperate at the time to realize he had sold his soul with one of the Devil's most faithful representatives – until it had been too late, and Norrington also lost his honor during Mass Hanging Day. You are nothing but a hypocrite, Chambers, but you don't even have the guts to admit it. Like the Porter says in "Macbeth": _"Knock, knock! Who's there, in the other Devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator."_"

Jack smiled like a wolf at the sight of his enemies shaking in their boots, one out of fear and the other from anger. He would have loved to continue this conversation, but he knew not to push his luck too far and besides, there was the matter of Will leading the captives to freedom: time was running out and he would have hated himself if the plan concocted by his little brother would sunk out of his own carelessness.

"Well, gentlemen, I am tempted to part from your disagreeable company right now; but I also feel you owe me restitution for the time I've lost aboard this piece of sea refuse, and for my uncomfortable stay in this narrow box. Consequently… put all your valuables on this table!"

"WHAT? I WON'T…" started Beckett, but Jack pointed his pistol right at the man's groin.

"If you value your family paste jewelry, Cuthbert, and if you want me to forget about performing an operation that would sever your curly tail, you will lay down on the table some real jewels! For example, that boar gold pin which is currently staring at me with its ruby eyes and the aquamarine adorning the ring finger of your generous hand. Let's not forget the cash you have in your coin-purse, and don't even try to waste my time by saying nonsense in the lines of: _"I don't have money on me"_. My forefingers are a little bit ticklish tonight, savvy? And nothing beats pressing a pistol's trigger to get rid of this sensation. As for you, Commander-who-cannot-even-command-his-bladder, I expect to see a watch, coins and your weapons on this table, or I will cure you from your micturition problem for good. On the double, piggy-wiggy!"

Chambers took out his sword and pistol and laid them on the table, and then he searched his pockets in a snap to threw his money on the wood, too scared to dare arguing with the pirate captain aiming a pistol at him. Some coins bounced on the table and fell on the floor, but Jack took no notice of them: it would have been unworthy of Captain Sparrow to bend down to pick up money, like a street beggar! Beckett tore his jewelry off his necktie – ripping the cloth in the process - and off his hand with movements betraying his anger, while his hateful eyes never left Jack's face.

"You'll pay for this, Sparrow; I swear it on my son's grave!"

"Your son doesn't have a grave, so I am not bothered by your threats."

"Damn you!"

"Temper, temper. Sometimes, I really wonder if you are truly Cutler's old man. He was as cold-blooded as this slumbering fish here," said Jack while pocking at Charon's prone body with his boot, "while you don't seem able to rein your anger for more than two minutes. In fact, you look and act just like a wild pig colored in red. It's not surprising you have failed every enterprise you have started! I, on the other hand, have managed to overcome overwhelming obstacles by my sovereign calm, my vast intellect and my ability to keep a loyal friend by my side. And you honestly thought money and scared minions would be enough to match the incredible Captain Jack Sparrow? When pigs fly!"

Jack snorted in derision, but his eyes remained attentive: he wasn't foolish or drunk enough to drop his guard during a triumphal moment.

"But at least, and thanks to your contribution, I will be able to bring home the bacon!" said the pirate captain while pocketing in a swift movement all the valuables left by his reluctant providers.

"You will face the rope one day, Sparrow. Your neck will be broken by the noose, it's the fate of every outlaw," said Beckett with a sneer. "You may think of yourself being cleverer than the usual rascals, but one day you will make a fatal mistake and I'll be here to catch you again!"

"Ah, but to quote Hamlet: _"Not a whit, we defy augury. There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all."_ Well, gentlemen, as enriching this conversation has been, I regret I have to part company. But before I leave, I will take another item with me… your belts."

"WHAT?" exclaimed in the same voice Chambers and Beckett.

"Aye. It would be difficult for you to run after me while holding your pants with both hands to prevent them from falling, now, wouldn't it? "

TBC…


	15. Every man for himself!

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Candi the Sharpshooter: thank you very much! ;-)

- Wang Tao's proverb comes from Wikiquote, as usual.

- Details about the volley gun (invented in 1779) come from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter ****15: Every man for himself!**

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters__…_

Jack quickly searched the Lieutenant's inert body and his agile fingers easily found the key locking the door of his cabin. He straightened up, feeling like the epitome of all pirates with his pockets full of goodies, his belt enriched with extra weapons and, last but not the least, two nice belts resting on the crook of his arm. He glanced at his humiliated enemies, who were laying face-down on the floor, and felt the warmth of pride soothing his aching wounds.

"We'll meet again, Sparrow," grumbled Beckett Senior, his nose buried deep into the wooden planks.

"I hope so! It's fun and profitable," answered Jack, and then he proclaimed with the panache worthy of a Shakespearian actor:

"Gentlemen, by your leave, I am going back on my mighty ship. The _Black Pearl II_ is waiting with her crew, her new passengers and her tendency to sail towards freedom, leaving you petty people biting the dust. Alas, Cuthbert Beckett, you will remember this as the day you have almost detained Captain Jack Sparrow!"

And with a last bow, the incorrigible boaster slammed the cabin's door behind him, turned the skeleton key inside the warded lock, and then he deliberately added pressure on the cylindrical shaft: the metal broke in two with a snap, right at the keyhole's level. Beckett Senior, Chambers and Charon were now trapped inside the cabin, and it would take hours before the soldiers would recover from their opium-inducted sleep to deliver their betters. Grinning like a madman, Sparrow could hear the first arguments erupting behind the door.

"_Chambers, you moron! Open that door right now!"_

"_I can't, Milord! Sparrow has managed to entrap us!" _And Jack could see the door's lever being shaken frantically, but to no avail: breaking a key inside a lock was an unbeatable way to block a door!

"_Good God, I am surrounded by incompetents. __Thirty-five soldiers aboard a pontoon with two officers, and…"_

"_It was you who had the idea of bringing Sparrow aboard this pontoon, Milord! None of this would have happened if he had been kept inside Port Royal's prison, as I have suggested!"_

"_You dare criticize my decisions? I will have your neck for that!"_

Ah, the delicious sound of enemies blaming one another for their failure to outsmart Captain Sparrow… That was sweet music to his ears! Whistling softly _"A pirate's life for me"_, Jack turned about and climbed quickly the stairs heading for the main deck.

Unfortunately, in his eagerness to be reunited with his beloved ship, Jack didn't see a giant larva shaped like a man, which was hiding in the corridor's shadows.

The Maggot watched the pirate with eyes full of hate, and then he turned his gaze toward Lieutenant Charon cabin's door.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

The evacuation of the prisoners had been progressing slowly but steadily. True to Marty's words, the children had raised no objections about walking on a gangplank between the pontoon and the _Black Pearl II_, encouraged by the short pirate's earlier performance. In fact, some of the children were literally fascinated by this adult who happened to be of their size, and they wanted to learn more about him! The teenagers, always ready for an adventure, didn't have to be asked twice to cross the precarious bridge – and the girls didn't miss an occasion to cast a longing glance at the handsome young gentleman.

The women didn't cry or argue about going on this footbridge either; they were too concerned for their children's safety and they would have walked on hot coals if needed. The last woman – the prostitute who had offered herself to Will in the hopes of a pardon – was currently walking the gangplank, her legs shaking in fear while Bootstrap Bill waited for her, his hand extended in a gesture of reassurance. Rudolph Thompson and Jeroboam Fox were guiding the saved people below deck, where they would be safe: if a fight somehow erupted, the _Dutchman_'s sailors and Jack's crewmembers wouldn't need a bunch of frightened civilians standing on the way.

The men had grabbed some of the soldiers' discarded weapons and were waiting for their turn to climb aboard the _Black Pearl II_ with rising impatience. Will watched his father grabbing the prostitute's wrist in a swift movement, and made her step on the pirate ship with a kind smile; she nodded quietly, too afraid to realize she had escaped Beckett's clutches. Then Jerry Fox guided the young girl downstairs while Bill motioned to the first man on line to cross the gap – in this case, it was the blacksmith.

"Your turn," said Will softly, and the blond man looked at the young Captain with rounded eyes just before stepping on the footbridge. Obviously, he was still flabbergasted about this "noble" and it hadn't crossed the good man's mind yet that Will was simply wearing a disguise!

Will looked at the line of ex-prisoners as wind moved his long dark hair, and he sighed in relief: the women and children were safe, and in a few moments the men would be all aboard the _Black Pearl II_ so they would leave Port Royal's harbor before anyone would witness the biggest prison break of the city's history. Pintel and Ragetti were muttering between each other, obviously arguing about which one of the bumbling duo would take the gangplank first, while Wang Tao was still keeping an attentive eye on the former soldier, Tobias.

The sound of pattering feet was heard, and the younger Turner turned about to see his friend running towards him, holding a pistol in one hand and a pair of belts in the other.

"Jack, what have you been doing?"

"Whatchoo mean, mate? I've been taking care of business with great style, as usual!" answered Jack with a haughty air while tossing the belts to the sea. The pieces of clothing disappeared into the harbor's dark waters with a soft splash. "Bickering Beckett, Chagrin Chambers and Cold-blooded Charon are now confined inside a cabin with my regards, and nothing short of heavy artillery can get them out of it. Of course, I didn't imprison them without extorting a substantial compensation for my unlawful detention – and boy, did the pigs ever squealed! Consequently, and thanks to my carefully-planned strategy, we now have all the time of the world to leave this termite-infested piece of wood but still, I don't encourage dawdling in this matter, savvy?"

"If my miserable person is allowed to express an importunate opinion, Lord Captain Sparrow, I wouldn't encourage it, either," said a soft voice at Jack's elbow.

"What do you mean, Mister Wang Tao?"

"Alas, Lord Captain Sparrow, I fear that our cloudy blanket of protection is currently unraveling, as the beautiful silvery face of the goddess Chang'e is appearing in the night sky," said the Chinese spy, and both Will and Jack raised their eyes: the full moon was indeed more visible because the fog was chased away by a wind getting stronger by the minute. Soon, the freed prisoners wouldn't benefit of its protection against prying eyes!

"Bugger!" exclaimed Jack. "The fog is lifting too early!"

"Quite so, Lord Captain Sparrow, and I am afraid our heroic escape might be compromised by this weather's whim."

"Calm down," said Will firmly. "If those people overhear us, they might panic and try to climb on the gangplank all together, only to end in the water and we will waste more time fishing them out. So far, we have succeeded in leaving the _Justice_ without a sound, so let's keep it this way: as long as we remain silent, the soldiers at the port have no reason to suspect anything."

"Good plan, Will!" said Jack, his eyes darting nervous glances in the direction of the hatch and the slumbering soldiers on the deck. "We carry on transferring these good persons to my proud ship and none would be the wiser. I mean, if we act inconspicuously, the garrison holed up at Fort Charles have no way to know prisoners are actually leaving the pontoon, correct? And… And if our three worst enemies are safely locked inside a tiny cabin, while the military men are still lost in dreams, they cannot raise the alarm in a deliberate movement to impeach us before we would all be safely aboard the _Black Pearl II_? I mean… they wouldn't even dare going after us even though the fog is lifting, would they? There are little probabilities they'd do something that stupid, in the lines of getting vindictive enough to attack before the whole lot of us have stepped on my stupendous ship…"

The young Turner looked at his friend with incredulous eyes: Jack's confidence seemed to crumble like a sandcastle! The only time he had seen the pirate captain looking so nervous, it had been during the time he had insulted Davy Jones just before discovering the heart had been stolen from him, thus destroying his chance to blackmail the monstrous-looking former Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_.

"Jack, what is wrong?"

"Nothing, mate, nothing at all" lied Jack through his precious dentition.

And then, Will understood: Captain Sparrow was haunted by old ghosts again. After Jack had been robbed of the heart, Davy Jones had ordered his disfigured crew to open fire on the _Black Pearl_. Will and Elizabeth had taken charge – with the help of Joshammee Gibbs – to outrun the _Flying Dutchman_ but the Kraken had stopped the _Black Pearl_; in the confusion created by the monster, Jack had seized the opportunity to flee on a dinghy, leaving his ship and his crew behind him. But he had turned back to help his only friends, just to end up in chains and alone on a deserted ship – courtesy of Elizabeth.

And Jack was worried the same situation would repeat itself: being robbed of a precious advantage (the fog) while his enemies were so close (the ever-present menace of soldiers), compromising his flight and those of his companions. Oh God, maybe he feared finding himself on a vessel (the pontoon) again, at the mercy of a Beastie (Beckett) to cover their escape!

"There is no need to worry," whispered Will, lightly squeezing Jack's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "Even if the fog is lifting, we still have a good advance on our foes. Everybody will be aboard the _Black Pearl II_ in a few minutes, and this wind will help us in leaving Port Royal's harbor more quickly. Besides, the _Flying Dutchman_ is nearby, ready to scare the wits out of any passing ship we may encounter. It will be our back-up, since no sailor would try to chase after such a notorious ghost ship!"

"Aye, you're probably right, kid…"

"Jack, be reasonable. I haven't gone through all the trouble of freeing you from jail to…"

"…chain me to a mainmast?" completed Jack, his eyes downcast, and Will felt a pang of guilt about the trauma his friend had suffered, years ago.

"I am sorry, Jack. I didn't know Elizabeth had tricked you…"

"I know, kid, and none of it had been your fault. Lizzie was a big girl, she made her own decision. She was mad at me for bargaining your soul with Davy Jones and I partly deserved some of her wrath, even if at times I am not quite sure. Also, she didn't want to loose you again, this time to the Kraken. She sincerely thought delivering me to the Beastie was the only way to ensure your safety. I just… When Lizzie manacled me at the _Pearl_'s mast, I was pretty surprised. I'd never thought she could learn the art of double-dealing so fast, you see? But I underestimated her – and you – and this mistake had cost me a trip to the Locker… a place I would rather not talk about it."

Jack shuddered lightly at the mention of his worst nightmare, and Will knew this experience had damaged his friend's psyche. As resourceful as the pirate captain was, every man had his limits and Captain Sparrow was no exception, even if he had greeted the rescue party with his usual insolence.

"Jack, the world has changed, and so did we; Jones is gone, the Kraken is dead, the Locker doesn't exist any more. You are not in danger of being swallowed by a giant squid for a hundred years of service. No one is going to leave you here, like a lamb tied up to a tree to hold a wolf. I would never allow such a thing to happen, and you know how mule-headed I can be."

"I would have said "honorable" but hey, it's your choice, kiddo."

The two friends exchanged a smile, and then Will turned his attention to the line of prisoners. The wind was getting stronger, the fog was dissipating quickly and they had to hurry since the gangplank was getting unstable from the quickly-roughing sea. Will was aware of what could happen: the fragile footbridge could break from being torn between two moving ships… and some of the prisoners could get marooned on the _H.M.S. Justice_.

"The men have to evacuate the _Justice_ more quickly," said the young Turner. "Mister Cotton, Mister Wang Tao, tell them they have to hop aboard the _Black Pearl II_ as fast as they can, but scuffles must be avoided at all costs!"

"You've heard Captain Turner," said Jack with his best commander's voice. "Get a move on, me hearties! All hands on deck! Walk that plank in a snap! We are men, not Beckett's minions, so I don't want to hear a single tooth chattering in fear! Lift the skin up! Movement, I want movement!"

The prisoners stared at the funny-looking pirate, and then they casted an interrogating look toward the young gentleman, who said with a more controlled voice:

"In plain English, men: walk the gangplank, we'll be leaving soon."

"Quite so, our allowed time aboard this dishonorable assemblage of beams and planks has become regrettably shorter," concluded Wang Tao.

* * *

_Outside Lieutenant Charon's __private quarters…_

The Maggot snickered as he stood nearby the cabin's door, watching the level being shaken up and down fruitlessly and hearing the increasing arguments. That cunning Sparrow had done a good job by breaking the key inside the lock: the high-and-mighty officers were trapped inside a crate-size box with the clownish bigwig, a retaliation of his own imprisonment below deck. That was a smart move from Sparrow; The Maggot would give him that! But the murderer of Longshanks Louis was also resolute in never allowing Jack to triumph over Beckett and Chambers.

After The Maggot had regained consciousness, he had promptly dealt with Vincent by thrusting a makeshift dagger inside the fat sergeant's heart just before fleeing the holding room. On his way out, he had seen a few soldiers sleeping on duty – a strange, but welcome, sight- and then he had spotted the line of prisoners heading for upstairs, and he had figured out Sparrow and his buddy had been taking every captive along with them.

That fact had been puzzling for The Maggot: why burden oneself with a bunch of losers and brats during a jail break? Then, his reptilian-like brains had provided him with the only answer they could find: Sparrow probably wanted to cover his tracks by gathering a crowd around him and in case the soldiers fired, he would use his followers as human shields. That sounded logical for The Maggot, since he wouldn't have acted otherwise.

If this murderer had any common sense, he would have taken advantage of the situation to flee the _H.M.S. Justice_ as well. But The Maggot was too greedy to not make a plan that would allow him to gain both a pardon and some pocket money from Chambers. After all, he was a wanted man in all the islands of the Caribbean and sooner or later, he would be denounced to the local authorities and it would be "prison and gallows time" again. No, The Maggot wanted a guarantee to get at least the British Crown off his back – and the only way at hand was to strike a deal with the cooped-up Chambers.

The Maggot knocked at the door of Lieutenant Charon's cabin.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

Jack's sudden outburst hadn't done much good: in fact, it had nearly provoked a catastrophe! Already stressed by hours spent inside the _Justice_'s bowels, promised to the gallows, the remaining prisoners had rushed all together to the gangplank, trying to cross it at the same time like a spooked herd running from a wildfire, and it had needed all of Will's authority – and some subtle persuasion from Wang Tao – to keep the men on line. But even if discipline had been restored, the creaking footbridge wasn't going to hold for very long: the wind was increasing and both the pontoon and the _Black Pearl II_ were dancing on the waves. The fog had completely disappeared, but dark clouds were gathering in the sky and the moon was getting veiled once more.

"Will, I'd really appreciate if you let me climb aboard my ship…" started Jack, but the young man interrupted him.

"Please, Jack, just one more minute. Only ten men left, and then it will be your turn, I promise."

"Thanks mate, but you see, I've never been in favor with the tradition proclaiming that the Captain must be the last one to leave a ship in case of mortal peril and…"

"Pintel!" exclaimed Will. "It's your turn! Walk the gangplank!"

The pot-bellied and bald pirate put one foot on the bridge, but a sudden gash of wind made him topple over and he nearly fell in the water. Only his desperate grip on the rope acting as a handrail allowed him to regain a precarious equilibrium.

"Captain, I'm afraid!" whined Pintel.

"_One mouse dropping ruins the whole pot of rice porridge_," said Wang Tao as he rolled his eyes heavenwards.

"IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR UGLY POSTERIOR ON THIS GANGPLANK RIGHT NOW, I'LL MAKE YOU WALK ANOTHER KIND OF PLANK!" yelled Jack.

* * *

_Outside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

"Hey, Chambers! How are yu holdin' in here?" asked The Maggot with a mocking voice.

"Hello? Who's there?" asked the Commander in a panic. "Please, can you help us? We are locked inside this cabin and…"

"Chambers! I am ordering you to get me out of here!" yelled Beckett.

"Milord, please be patient! There's a man outside who is willing to help us…"

"Who says I'm willin' to let yu out, Chambers? Yu disgustin' self-righteous military man, yu had the nerve to lock me inside ah box after I did yur dirty work fer yu! So if yu wanna see daylight again, yu will have to offer sumthink on the table!"

Silence followed The Maggot's words, and then the voice of Chambers rose again behind the door:

"Who's there? Identify yourself!"

"Don't yu ever give me orders, or I let yu rot in th're for all I care, got it? I am the one callin' the shots and don't yu forget it!"

"But who are you?"

"I'm The Maggot, Chambers, and yu'd do well ta show me respect!"

"The Maggot?" repeated the Commander, sounding really scared this time.

"Aye. Why? Ya think Sparrow is the only smarty around here? I got outta yur soapbox inna snap, and I am tempted in letting you inside dis cabin and drag a cannon down here and shot at dis door until yu cry and beg fer Mama. Yu are nutthing but a wet blanket, Chambers, an' I wanna yu to pay dearly for sentencin' me to the gallows. The noose for shooting down Longshanks Louis, that damn fool! Not a loss fer humanity, but I should dance the hangman's jig fer this? Yu have made a bad mistake, yur commandership, and yu are at my mercy now."

"Very well, Maggot," conceded Chambers with a heavy sight. "I admit I've been unjust towards you and that you didn't deserve the death penalty for shooting Longshanks Louis. Now, will you get me out of here?"

"Whassa matter, Commander, yu are in a hurry? Probably anxious ta go after Sparrow and all the other prisoners, are yu?"

"_**Will you shut that man up?"**_ roared Beckett's exasperated voice.

"Instead of yelling, Milord, you should look after Lieutenant Charon!" shot Chambers back. "Can't you see the man is waking up? Help him to get back on his feet!"

"I'll help him all right! I'll kick his butt off!" growled Beckett, and the characteristic sound of a shoe hitting a pair of trousers was heard through the door.

"So, whaddaya tell, Chambers?" asked The Maggot. "Are yu ready to hear my proposition, like yu stuck-up idiots say wif yur la-di-dah educated accent?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Well, here goes: as first condition, yu swear on yur honor as an officer and a gentleman that yu drop the charges against me..."

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

Pintel finally managed to walk across the gangplank, his face looking a bit greenish as if he was going to throw up on the _Pearl_'s main deck; but Bootstrap Bill wasted no time in trying to comfort the pirate with famous rotten teeth. He pushed Pintel out of the way and beckoned to the next man in line, his worried blue eyes never leaving Will's face. The elder Turner would allow himself to breathe again after his son would be safely aboard the _Black Pearl II_, but not before!

"Ragetti! It's your turn!" said Will.

* * *

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

"W-What happened?" asked Charon, lightly swaying on his feet as he felt his hurting jaw.

"Sparrow has escaped, thanks to Chambers' stupidity and yours!" snarled Cuthbert Beckett. "Apparently some friends of his have managed to infiltrate this supposedly-impregnable pontoon, and he had freed my prisoners before locking us up and robbing me blind! I knew you were as incompetent as Chambers! For all your coldness, you are nothing but another uniform with manure inside his skull and wind in your belly. And your imbecile soldiers obviously haven't heard a thing about the prisoners escaping! You'll hear from me, I can assure you! I happen to know a Vice-Admiral in London and one word…"

"Friends of Sparrow? What friends?" asked Charon, his eyes widening at the mention of accomplices.

"How should I know, you dimwit, I do not lower myself to learn the names of every low-lives Sparrow has met in his life! But do not think for a minute you will distract me from destroying your career…"

Beckett kept on ranting and raving, but the Lieutenant paid no heeds to his words since his mind was working furiously inside his skull: no one had been allowed to step aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_ apart from Chambers, the red barking buffoon and…

_Lord Burlington._

Reality slapped Charon in the face with the harshness of a whip. The young noble who had came with an authorization letter from Harbormaster Ledroit, to ask Sparrow questions about his father's death… The Lieutenant grinded his teeth as he realized he had been fooled. "Lord Burlington" was a pirate and he had freed Beckett's prized prisoner after having dealt with Sergeant Vincent – not that the man would have been much of an obstacle, anyway. And to add insult to injury, Sparrow had opened all the other cells before knocking him down with a single punch. To think he would have been able to stop this massive escape if he hadn't been delayed by Chambers' demands for his help!

Charon felt cold fury invading his body: no one made a fool out of him and got away with it! He would hunt Sparrow and his friend at world's ends if needed, and they would both be hanged from the _Black Pearl II_'s yard-arms on the way back to Port Royal.

"What is Chambers doing?" asked the Lieutenant with an icy voice, efficiently cutting Beckett's litany of threats.

"Apparently, one of those freed scumbags is ready to help us in getting out if that moronic Commander agrees to call off the hangman," grumbled the middle-aged man.

"There's no need to trouble ourselves with this kind of helper," said Charon, and his tone managed to make Beckett shiver.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

"It's your turn! Go on now!" said Will. Only eight more men to go…

* * *

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

While Chambers kept on pleading with The Maggot through the door, Charon crouched down and pulled at a loose plank of the floor, revealing a hidden cache beneath.

"What on Earth are you doing?" asked Beckett.

"Shut up, you fool," hissed the Lieutenant. "You don't want to alert whoever is standing on the other side of the door!"

In normal circumstances, Beckett would have kicked at the military man for this blatant lack of respect towards his birth and his fortune, but Charon's little game was intriguing him – even if he wouldn't have admitted it out loud for all the gold of Peru. After he had pulled out some more loose planks, the Lieutenant got out from under the floorboards a long object wrapped in a dusty blanket.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

"Your turn! Go!"

Six more men to go…

* * *

_Inside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

The dark blanket was quickly tossed aside, revealing the most bizarre weapon Beckett had ever seen in his life. It was a gun made of seven barrels welded together, with small vents drilled through from the central barrel to the other six barrels clustered around it, and it seemed to be operated with a standard flintlock mechanism. The weapon looked very heavy, since Charon was holding it with both hands, but there were no doubts in Beckett's mind that it would make huge damages.

"What in the world is that?"

"This, Milord, is the prototype of a new kind of gun an engineer named James Wilson has developed in England. It is called a volley gun and it is capable to discharge its seven barrels simultaneously, with devastating effect on groups of enemy sailors or escaping slaves and prisoners, so I'm afraid this door isn't going to last for very long. Would you kindly ask Commander Chambers to remove himself out of the way?"

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

"Cotton, cross the bridge! Go now!" said the young Turner.

"_Aye, aye, Sir!"_ answered the parrot perched on the pirate's shoulder.

Four more men to go…

* * *

_Outside Lieutenant Charon's private quarters…_

"And that was mah last condition, Chambers," concluded The Maggot, looking in satisfaction at his dirty fingernails. "Take it or leave it, but if I were yu, I wouldn't argue fer too long if you still wanna chase after Sparrow and his losers. What says yu?"

Strangely, the Commander didn't answer. The Maggot frowned, and then he grabbed at the door's level and shook it.

"Chambers! Yu still alive, or are yu sleepin' like yur soldiers do? 'Cause I haveta tell yu, they won't get yu outta here so yu'd better give me an answer right now, or else I'm leavin' this pontoon too. So, what says yu?"

The Maggot pressed his ear against the door, and his frown deepened: a sizzling sound could be heard on the other side, as if someone had lit the match of a gunpowder barrel. But that was absurd, since no officer would stash this kind of item in his cabin!

"Chambers! Whattaryu doin' in here?" yelled the outlaw.

Those were The Maggot's last words.

KA-BOOM.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s upper deck…_

"What was that?" asked Will, his eyes huge after hearing the explosion which had rocked the _H.M.S. Justice_ from below. "It sounded like a cannon!"

"It's our starting signal!" exclaimed Jack. "Clear the decks for action, haul those sheets, every man for himself! Women and Captain first!

TBC…


	16. Bridge over troubled water

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Candi: thanks!!! ;-)

- The title comes from the 1970's song performed by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.

- This chapter is dedicated to Acacia59601: welcome home!

* * *

**Chapter ****16: Bridge over troubled water**

_Lieutenant Charon's private quarters__…_

Charon grinned in satisfaction as the gunpowder smoke dissolved to unveil the remains of his cabin's door. Chambers was coughing loudly, while Beckett was complaining loudly how the volley gun's deflagration had deafened him, but the Lieutenant paid no heed to those whines. In fact, he was slightly amused by the fact his senior officer and Beckett were forced to hold their pants with both hands, making them look absolutely ridiculous.

An icicle-like smile spread on his lips as he saw the broken ruins that used to be the door of his hated office and, most importantly, the sprawled body of The Maggot lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The volley gun's explosion had pulverized the door's planks and some large shards had imbedded themselves into the outlaw's body, pinning him to the floor like a butterfly displayed inside a glass box. The Maggot's face was ashen, his breathing was shallow and blood was pouring freely from his mouth, turning his dirty white shirt into a brilliant red; the pain he was feeling was horrible and yet, his malevolent eyes never left Charon's face, like a snake trying to hypnotize a mouse while in the throes of death.

The Lieutenant kicked away the shambles and stepped inside the corridor. Chambers moaned in distress at the sight of the dying man, but Beckett just snarled in disdain, taking every precaution to not sully his brand-new shoes by stepping on the blood. The Maggot suddenly started snickering like a lunatic, his lithe frame shaken by convulsions, and the three men turned their heads towards him in a simultaneous movement.

"Yu… gonna… pay…" croaked The Maggot to the Commander.

"You are about to meet your Maker. It is you who is going to pay for your crimes, and very soon!" said Chambers with a supposedly dignified attitude, which would have been more convincing if his face hadn't turned a ghastly pale and if he hadn't been busy keeping his soiled pants up. Deep down, he was terrorized that a man gravely wounded by multiple gunshots and gutted by wood would still be able to talk. But The Maggot didn't bother to answer the Commander; instead, he looked at Charon straight in the eyes and said:

"Yu… gonna… die."

"Look who's talking," snickered Beckett, but a cold glance from Charon cut at his hilarity. Then, The Maggot looked at the would-be lord and groaned:

"Yu… damned to Hell… Hanged by the neck, 'till death…"

"What?" exclaimed Beckett, but The Maggot merely shrugged and he died with a nasty smile on his lips, as if he had gotten a glimpse of his executioners' future from the Devil and he had died happily, knowing of their upcoming dooms.

Chambers couldn't help but shiver: he was as superstitious as the next sailor and a dying man had just cursed them. That was a bad omen if he had ever seen one, indeed, and he was tempted to swim his way back to the harbor before fleeing to Fort Charles and hide under his cozy bed, but his boss' harsh voice snapped him out of his thoughts:

"Why are we wasting time on that piece of scum? Let's run after Sparrow!" roared Beckett in a convincing display of authority, even if he looked like he had been interrupted while using the privies.

"We must find weapons first, Milord," answered Charon curtly.

"We don't need them, not with this monstrous gun of yours! Go to the main deck, and fire at any prisoner trying to escape!"

"The volley gun is empty, Milord, and it will take about ten minutes for the barrels to cool down, and five more minutes to reload. So in the meantime, we'd better arm ourselves if you want to catch those scoundrels before they leave the pontoon."

"You are fooling yourself, Charon!" said Chambers. "Sparrow and his men have probably cleaned all the soldiers of their weapons before they left the _Justice_. We're done for, and it will be a miracle if we can find a longboat to reach the harbor."

"Abandoning the chase after those rascals, are you? You yellow-belly coward…" started Beckett, but the Commander interrupted him:

"We need a longboat to go back to the harbor and find a ship, and then going after the _Black Pearl II_, you confounded idiot! How do you think we will catch up with Sparrow otherwise? If you'd only shut up your mouth…"

"Gentlemen, we are wasting time," said Charon. "Sparrow has certainly stolen the weapons of my drugged men, but there is a hidden cache under the mess' floor, where ammunition, a few pistols and a sword are stashed. A little precaution from my part, to avoid unwanted mutiny from underpaid soldiers and mercenaries. So let's get on with it, shall we?"

* * *

On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s main deck…

Will Turner watched as his carefully-planned escaped hit rock bottom: the explosion that had rocked the pontoon from beneath had not only panicked the remaining escapees and compromised the gangplank's fragile stability; it had also awakened the sleeping city! The fog had completely vanished and in the distance, the young man could see men in uniforms running in all directions in the harbor, holding lanterns, shouting questions. Muskets were fired in the air, sounding the alarm. A ship will be readied promptly to investigate what was going on aboard the pontoon and if they didn't get out of Port Royal's waters immediately, Beckett's innocent victims would be thrown in jail again!

There were only six men remaining on the _Justice_'s main deck, apart from the slumbering soldiers: Will, Jack, Wang Tao, and three former prisoners. The fog had left the vicinity to make way for gathering dark clouds, blowing winds and the threat of a thunderstorm. Even if it was anchored, the pontoon was dancing dangerously on the waves and the _Black Pearl II_ wasn't faring much better. It looked as if the captives evacuating the pontoon had provoked the wrath of the Dragon-King, which had summoned its dark powers for revenge!

Terror-stricken by the explosion, the three prisoners had tried to cross the gangplank all together – including Jack – and resulting in a rush that had almost thrown the whole lot of them into the water. Fists started to fly so Will and Wang Tao jumped in to break the fight, trying to separate the melee in a desperate attempt to maintain discipline. It would be too stupid to fail when so close to the goal!

On the other side of the bridge, Bootstrap Bill watched in consternation his son and the Chinese spy trying to stop the men from knocking down each other and tumbling on the narrow bridge. He would have jumped into the fight to protect Will, but a sudden gush of wind made him realize that the _Black Pearl_ II had to be kept steady for the gangplank to hold on for a little more time… precious minutes that would mean life of death for the prisoners. He barked the necessary orders so the pirate ship would be maintained at a close distance to the pontoon.

"Please, calm down!" pleaded Will while pinning a fighter's arms behind his back. "You will be aboard the _Black Pearl II_ in a minute, I promise!"

"Lemme go! I wanna get outta here!" said the burly man, lashing out at the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. He was obviously too scared to listen to the voice of reason.

"You earthworm!" hissed Wang Tao as he punched another man on the nose. He was sorely tempted to thrust one of his thin blades into his opponent's throat, but he had promised Will to use violence only when necessary. "You dare disobey Lord Captain Turner, the man who had gotten you out of your ignominious prison? You should grovel at his feet for saving your life, you manure-filled skull!"

Jack tried to use the confusion created by the prisoners' panic to cross the gap himself, and his wobbly-walking frame was silhouetted against the recently-lit docks of Port Royal. The third prisoner – a skinny man with a mop of red hair - was belly-crawling on the gangplank, using the banisters to secure his hold on the few meters separating him from freedom; but the wood was creaking and groaning loudly under the pressure of being torn between two moving ships, and the man was making frightened little noises whenever a sinister sound came from the footbridge. In fact, he was so afraid he didn't notice Jack's presence until the wild-haired pirate stepped on him.

"Ow!" protested the red-haired former captive.

"A thousand insincere apologies, my good man, but as you can see, I am in a hurry to evacuate this poor excuse of a pontoon as well. It appears you have chosen to crawl your way to freedom. Well, to each his own, but frankly it wouldn't be appropriate for a man of my reputation to imitate your methods. You see, I am the untidy Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything, including walking on a bridge over troubled waters and if a man happens to be under my feet, then…"

"Jack!" yelled Will. "Help me!"

Jack turned about and saw his friend had come to grips with a man built like a giant barrel of rum. The young Turner obviously hadn't wanted to hurt his opponent but the man wasn't exactly grateful about this fair-play. In fact, the ex-prisoner had wrapped both his hands around Will's neck! In his hysterical state, the man didn't see Will as a miraculous savior any more but as a high-and-mighty lord standing between him and the _Black Pearl II_. Wang Tao, furiously dealing with another scared prisoner, couldn't do anything to help Lord Captain Turner.

Sparrow was a bit puzzled by the whole situation: why didn't William use his special abilities to subdue his adversary? And then realization dawned on him: the young Turner didn't want to scare the big man any more than he already was. Appearing and disappearing in a flash would drive his opponent to complete madness and they certainly didn't need this at the moment. Jack's sense of self-preservation told him to leave the burly man behind, but he knew his adopted brother wouldn't leave the _Justice_ without the prisoners, including the frantic one. Inwardly cursing Will's chivalrousness and after receiving Bootstrap Bill's begging glance from across the gangplank, Jack walked back towards the pontoon with a heavy sigh.

* * *

_On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s lower deck…_

Chambers felt a bit better; true to Charon's words, they had found the cache under the mess' floor – ignoring the snoring soldiers sleeping on the tables – and they had found the defensive items, carefully wrapped in burlap bags. They also had found lengths of rope to keep Chambers' and Beckett's pants tied around their bellies and with his hands armed with iron and gunpowder, the Commander felt more confident.

The tide had turned, Sparrow's time of glory would be very short-lived; but Chambers silently swore that there would never be a mass hanging: too many people knew about he had acted in collusion with Beckett, meaning all those witnesses had to disappear one way or another. The prisoners would be thrown overboard, or executed in their cells if recaptured. As for Sparrow and his friends, they would be killed on the spot! No time would be wasted in making nooses! Beckett and Charon would be dealt with, too, in the lines of a gunshot's wound in the back – maybe Chambers could award the Lieutenant a medal, to name him a posthumous hero? As for Beckett, no one in Port Royal would notice his disappearance, apart from his scared servants who would be too happy to steal whatever they could in his grand mansion before fleeing the city.

A sword had been given to Beckett, who had tucked his riding crop inside his makeshift belt, and Charon had stuffed his pockets with bullets and gunpowder. His volley gun was still too hot to be reloaded but even empty, it would make a very persuasive weapon to point at the prisoners and "convince" them to get back to their cells quietly. But Chambers knew that daredevil Sparrow wouldn't be fooled by the size of Charon's gun, so they will have to act swiftly: Sparrow had to be killed first, followed by the ones he had called "his friend and his associate". Without a leader, the captives would be in complete disarray and they would have no other choice than surrender.

"All right, we have the weapons. Let's go after these rascals right now!" growled Beckett.

"Are you sure you know how to use those weapons, Milord?" asked Chambers with a sarcastic smile. "Because we are dealing with pirates, much tougher to kill than children and to frighten than your servants, so I sincerely doubt you will be up to the job!"

"Insolent!"

"Shut it, the both of you. Sparrow must have heard the explosion, he knows we are coming!" hissed Charon. "We must go to the upper decks at once!"

* * *

On the _H.M.S. Justice_'s main deck…

Will was suffocating; the large man's hands were squeezing mercilessly his neck and he was starting to feel dizzy. Even if his supernatural status didn't allow him to die as long as he remained on the sea, the young man could still suffer from wounds or lack of essential elements like food, water or air – it was probably a way to remind the immortal Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ that he was born a human, consequently he wasn't an invulnerable creature. Not that Will's modest nature had ever needed this kind of reminder: he would never forget how weak and broken he had felt after he had been tortured by Red Hand Pete, four years ago. The fever, the pain had overwhelmed him and it had taken all of his father's loving care for him to make a full recovery.

The irony of the situation would have made Will laugh if he had been able to do so: he was getting strangled by a man he was trying to save from the gallows! But the pain he was feeling was very real! Through his quickly-darkening vision, Will could see the man's bulging eyes, the foam at the corner of his mouth, the lips frozen in an insane smile… and then a shadow fell upon them and a voice asked in a very casual manner:

"Hoy, friend, can you tell time?"

"Eh?" asked the burly-shaped man, releasing his grip on Will's neck for the tiniest of seconds… and Jack seized the occasion to slam his fist right on a mouth full of rotten teeth. The impact wasn't violent enough to send the attacker to Dreamland, but at least it had stopped the man in his strangling action.

"It's **time** to leave, you moron," said Jack to the prisoner while rubbing his aching knuckles, "and I would appreciate if you'd save your strength for our foes instead of trying to murder this young man; in case you haven't noticed yet, he's on our side and it is quite unsafe for your health to cross me about that matter, savvy?"

Will staggered, holding his throat with both hands, but he didn't fell down. He had lost his tricorn hat in the struggle but he didn't care about it; to breathe more easily, Will tore away the silk neckwear and opened wide the collar of his white shirt, as he knew the downstairs explosion had rung the knell of his "Lord Burlington" persona.

Wang Tao, who had finally dealt with the other captive's panic by a good punch on the nose, got one of his daggers out of his tunic's sleeves and wielded it just minutes from the large man's throat, who whined in fear.

"You have dared to lay a hand upon Lord Captain Turner? You'll perish for this!"

"No, Mister Wang Tao!" whispered Will, his voice still hoarse from the attack. "These men are the last remaining prisoners, so make them cross the gangplank right now!"

Jack looked up and saw Bootstrap Bill making the skinny, red-haired man jump aboard the _Black Pearl II_ none too gently. Reaching a decision, he seized the man with the bloodied nose and made him walk on the footbridge with a hearty kick on the posterior.

"Shake a leg, you coward! You are compromising the escape of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow by your incredible clumsiness!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!" moaned the prisoner through the blood pouring from his broken nose. A few minutes later, Bill Turner hurled him aboard the pirate ship as if the man was a bag full of dirty laundry. The creaking and groaning of the fragile bridge became louder and louder, just like the shouts coming from Port Royal's harbor.

"There! Now Mister Wang Tao, would you mind accompany this big-on-muscles, but short-on-courage man towards my pride and joy, even if his recent actions don't make him deserve this privilege but the very idea of abandoning him on this pontoon wouldn't suit Captain Turner's principles?" asked Jack.

"With gratitude, Lord Captain Sparrow!" exclaimed the spy; he grabbed the shocked prisoner by the wrist and made him cross the gangplank while grumbling imprecations in Chinese about imbeciles who could recognize an heavenly herald only if the said herald would knock them on the head, idiots loosing their nerves in the middle of an escape and men endowed with muscles inversely proportioned to their brains.

"All right, now that the last formerly imprisoned man is finally led to freedom, following your righteous and noble nature, how about letting my comely person going back to my rightful ship? In case you haven't noticed, Will, I am getting old on this pontoon and that doesn't suit well with my fine features…"

"I am sorry, Jack. I had truly hoped the evacuation wouldn't take this long. If it hadn't been for this explosion…"

"Humph!" grumbled the scruffy pirate. "Tell yourself stories all you want but the truth is, there are still some lacunas in your Captain's education, kid."

"Oh? And what those would be?" asked Will, a bit crossed at his friend's words. He rearranged the heavy embroidered cloak he was wearing – a gift from Ammand the Corsair –, throwing it over his right shoulder to leave his sword arm free.

"Well, for starters, it is a scientific fact that a Captain can never be strangled by a sailor! That's an unshakable, immovable, ultra-absolute law, and any man trying to transgress it must be hanged at once on the charges of mutiny! This rule is one of the pillars of navigation and…"

"Jack, it wasn't a sailor, but a prisoner out of his mind from fear!" said Will. "Besides, he has calmed down quickly, thanks to your punch, and he has nearly reached the _Black Pearl II_ with Wang Tao. You will be soon…"

A deafening "CRACK" was heard in the night's darkness; Will and Jack watched in horror as the gangplank suddenly broke in two and fell into the harbor's waters with a loud splash. Wang Tao and the burly man, who had crossed the two-thirds of the bridge, would have fallen into the sea as well if the Chinaman hadn't had the presence of mind to grab one of the ropes hanging from the _Pearl_'s railing with one hand, while closing his fist around the wrist on the former captive. But the momentum send them both crashing hard against the pirate ship's starboard side and for a terrible moment, Will thought for sure Wang Tao would release his grip under the impact and fall into the water nonetheless.

But Wang Tao merely shook his head, looking very determined to not drop the lifeline, even though he felt as if his shoulders would be torn apart in a little while. The prisoner started screaming hysterically again, struggling against the hold that was preventing him from an imminent drowning.

"Hold on, Mister Wang Tao!" exclaimed Jack.

"Quite so, Lord Captain Sparrow," answered Wang Tao between gritted teeth. "It sounds like a good idea, if I daresay so."

"Papa!" yelled Will. "Haul them aboard, quickly!"

Bootstrap Bill jumped in action and grabbed at the rope with both hands, his huge arms acting like iron wheels inexorably drawing along the stocks bearing the sail cloths of a windmill. Wang Tao felt himself being prompted upwards in a brusque movement, and seconds later a hand slammed itself on the back of his tunic and made him land roughly on the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck. The sound of a fist punching at something was heard, and then he saw the former large prisoner falling on the deck's planks, completely out cold this time.

"Much obliged, Honorable Lord First Officer of the _Flying Dutchman_!" said Wang Tao. "I am in your debt for saving my life and for ending so promptly this man's bothersome struggles and lack of courage under duress."

"You're welcome," growled Bill Turner, but his blue eyes were filled with despair as he saw his son and Jack stranded aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_. The strong winds and the currents were increasing the distances between the _Pearl_ and the pontoon, and the gangplank had been destroyed as the tearing pressure had been too much for McCarthy's handiwork. Jack wouldn't be able to go back to his ship!

"Will!" yelled the elder Turner. "Come, quickly!"

A thunderous noise was heard in Port Royal, and Will turned about to see a warship was having its anchor raised to sail towards the pontoon, with the blatant intention to investigate the causes of recent uproars. The young man paled at the thought of this ship chasing after the _Black Pearl II_, firing cannonballs at its hold full of frightened women and children. The _Flying Dutchman_'s presence nearby could eventually scare a few sailors, but what if they were led by an officer who wouldn't give a damn about a ghost ship? A few strikes of the whip would silent the frightened seamen, and the _Dutchman_ wouldn't be able to do anything to help the _Black Pearl II_.

William frowned at the thought: he would be damned if he'd ever let down the innocents who had trusted him unconditionally! Making his mind, he shouted:

"Papa, sail the _Pearl_ away from this harbor!" shouted the young man. "Get to the open sea at once! Save those people!"

"But, Will…" started to say Bootstrap, but his son cut him short:

"Please, Papa, if you love me! These persons and the crew must be saved! A warship is coming and we won't have a chance of survival if we fight here. Don't worry; I'll be aboard the _Pearl_ soon."

Sky-blue eyes locked themselves on chocolate-colored orbs, and time stood still as the Turners exchanged a gaze full of tenderness. And then, Bootstrap Bill rushed at the wheel and turned it to orientate the pirate vessel away from Port Royal. Since the fog had vanished and the winds were strong, it would be easy as pie to maneuver the _Black Pearl II_. Marty, Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti understood that their ship was leaving, and they scrambled in all direction to accomplish the necessary tasks for an abrupt departure. The remaining crew that had been left aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ had sensed the urgency of the situation, and they have already headed the ghost ship away towards the high seas to leave some space for the _Pearl_.

"Ahem, Will," said Jack while darting nervous glances towards his ship moving away at all speed. "I really hope you have a back-pocket plan, kid, because right now, I am not overly optimistic about my chances of escaping this pontoon…"

"HOLD IT!" shouted a voice behind the two men. It was Chambers'.

In a flash, Jack turned about and saw the Commander aiming a pistol at them, followed by Beckett who was armed with a sword and his dreaded riding crop. Charon was kneeling on the main deck, busily pouring gunpowder in the largest gun the pirate had ever seen in his life of crimes. Jack instinctively jumped behind Will, and drew out his pistol to point it at his friend's throat.

"One move and I will blow his lordship's head off!" yelled Jack, improvising a hostage situation with the fake Lord Burlington. "You will be sole responsible for his death, Chambers!"

The Commander's eyes widened at the sight: he would have never imagined Sparrow, for his entire clownish attitude, would use a human shield to protect his flight! And the death of a nobleman aboard the pontoon Chambers was in charge of could only mean big trouble for him: it was one thing to think about disposing of Charon, Beckett and the pirates, but it was another one to be responsible for the murder of a member of the gentry… someone who probably had high-ranking friends with a lot of embarrassing questions.

"What are you waiting for?" roared Beckett. "Shoot him!"

"Are you mad? He has Lord Burlington hostage!" protested Chambers.

"What do I care? Kill them both!"

"I'm not shooting a gentleman, you fool!"

"We're going to the stern, kiddo," whispered Jack to Will's ear, his braided goatee tickling the side of the young man's face. And then, the pirate and his "hostage" started walking backwards, reaching out for the short flight of stairs heading where the _Justice_'s helm used to be.

"That's right, Chambers!" said Jack, still hiding behind Will. "Back off if you know what is good for you and your career – and take the red buffoon along with you, his attire is a visual offense to my delicate eyes! Now I'm leaving this bucket of vermin with my hostage in tow, and I will not hesitate to harm a hair on his pretty head if you ever get the far-fetched idea to run after me in the preposterous goal to lock me up again. So you'd better keep your hellhounds on a short leash, savvy? Alas, and as I've already said it before, Commander Chambers, you will remember this day as the one you have almost subdued Captain Jack Sparrow!"

The two men climbed the stairs in a hurry but at the same moment, Charon finished loading his volley gun and he got up on his feet, screaming:

"Chambers, you moron! Lord Burlington is in league with Sparrow!"

"What? What do you mean?" exclaimed the Commander, an incredulous expression on his face.

"You've heard me! He's no noble; he's a pirate like the others! Shoot him!"

Both Beckett and Chambers turned to face the escaping duo, and Will said in a strangely calm voice:

"I am Captain William Turner, of the _Flying Dutchman_."

Jack used the distraction to fire his pistol at the _Justice_'s broken main mast. The shot missed the Commander's head by a foot and sent shards of wood flying everywhere, but Jack didn't care since Chambers and Beckett both cowered in fear on the pontoon's deck planks, each of them fearing the pirate had opened fire upon their precious persons. Charon, on the other hand, didn't run for cover and he grunted as he lifted the seven-barreled gun in the general direction of the runaways.

"Move it, Will! To the stern!"

The two men quickly reached the helm, hoping they would be too high for Charon to shoot them from the main deck. Once they had reached the farthest part of the pontoon's rear – almost toppling over the ship's rail –, Jack saw the _Black Pearl II_ getting out of Port Royal's waters, fleeing to safety in a glorious display of dark sheets filled with wind. The _Dutchman_'s was only a vaguely-shaped white silhouette against the horizon.

"_Looks like the prisoners are going to make it," _thought the silver-tongued scoundrel sadly. _"Too bad you got the short end of the deal, Jacky; you will be remembered as the pirate captain who had to swim all the way to catch up with his own ship, after orchestrating a daring escape which should be remembered forever in the Caribbean's history books…"_

"Let's go to the _Black Pearl II_, Jack!"

"How, kiddo? I am not exactly in shape for a quick dip in the water and there are no longboats in sight; unless you want us to improvise a raft?"

"HANDS UP!" yelled Charon, pointing the volley gun at the two friends. It was obviously too heavy for the Lieutenant to wield it on his own but at such a short distance, he didn't need to aim his devastating gun with a lot of precision. "NO NONSENSE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR OR I'LL SHOOT!"

Will never hesitated: he wrapped his arms around Jack and hugged him in a strong and caring embrace, as if he had just been reunited with a long-lost brother; and then he said:

"Hold tight, Jack."

"Will, what are you…?"

But Captain Sparrow never had the occasion to finish his sentence.

Will closed his eyes.

Both men vanished like ghosts from the _H.M.S. Justice_'s helm.

TBC…


	17. And they're off!

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- The legend of Ivan Mazepa (1639-1709), Hetman of the Ukrainian Cossacks, tells about the affair he had with an unhappily married Countess. Her husband punished young Mazepa by tying him naked to a wild horse and setting the animal loose. French writer Voltaire (1694–1778) mentioned this legend in his book _"History of Charles XII, King of Sweden"_ (1731) and British poet Lord Byron (1788–1824) turned it into a poem in 1819.

- This chapter's title has been inspired by Alice's review: thank you, sweetie!

- Details about frigates come from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter 17: And they're off!**

Captain Jack Sparrow had been caught in a hurricane!

He was zooming through the air!

He had escaped gravity force!

"_Whoooo-" _began to shout the pirate, as much as he could since the air was whooshed out of his lungs by the brusque acceleration.

Even his exceptional intelligence experienced a bit of momentary trouble in understanding what had happened: one second he was standing on the _H.M.S. Justice_'s main deck, standing in front of the business end of Lieutenant Charon's seven-barreled gun, and the next he was flying horizontally, helpless like a bird caught in the middle of a whirlwind!

"_-oo__ooooo-"_ called Jack.

He could barely see through the blur of the tornado that had seized him, but the darkened form of the pontoon silhouetted against the lights of Port Royal was still visible, even though the whole scene was diminishing in size at an incredible speed. The only tangible things Jack could feel was his mane of hair flying everywhere, with the entangled beads harshly slapping at his face, and an iron-like grip on his shoulders and arms.

"_-o__ooooaaa-"_

Vertigo seized Jack, making him feel like he had been strapped to the back of a mad animal, like that Mazepa fellow mentioned in the Voltaire book he had read years ago; only this time, the wild horse had been replaced by a sea serpent, which was slithering on the ocean's surface at full speed!

But Captain Sparrow was never defeated, especially not in the middle of crazy situations that would have made lesser men loose their minds. He wasn't the cleverest pirate of the Caribbean for nothing, and he certainly wouldn't be floored by an itty-bitty thing such as being kidnapped by a hurricane. In fact, his sharp intellect was already providing him with the beginning of an answer: Will had embraced him just before the phenomenon had occurred, meaning…

"_-__aaaaaaah!"_ finished shouting Jack as he was fell backwards and his posterior collided with something hard and unforgivable. He landed flat on his back on a rough surface – hurting his vertebras and his skull, at the same occasion –, the wind knocked out of him, and he still couldn't see a thing as a curtain of dark strands obscured his vision. That situation infuriated him to no end and he tried to move, but the grip on his body was still strong and he thought he would suffocate a man crushed alive under the keel of a grounded ship. Then, a soft voice whispered in his ear:

"Easy, Jack."

"Wha-?" croaked the outlaw, but he couldn't add anything else because the curtain of dark hair was lifted, clearing his vision: Jack suddenly found himself lying on the main deck's floor of his beloved _Black Pearl II_'s and surrounded by towering, astonished faces looking down at him as if he was trapped at the bottom of a well. Will had relinquished his grip but he remained kneeling next to his friend's body, allowing Jack to breathe again after the violent flying and the equally brutal landing.

The young Turner looked worryingly at the pirate gaping like a fish out of the water, hoping that Jack would quickly come back to his former self after this extraordinary experience. They may have succeeded in leaving the pontoon, but Beckett Senior wouldn't give up on his preys easily and he would seek them out, wanting revenge!

Will looked about and saw the crew of the _Pearl_ – including Marty, Cotton, and the dim-witted duo P & R – had regained their posts. Will's sailors and some of the ex-prisoners had joined the pirates to defend the ship, while the women and children had been hidden safely below deck, under the kind protection of Murtogg and Mullroy (who had been sent downstairs in order to prevent a catastrophe: these two guys simply couldn't be trusted during a fight). But all of them were staring with round eyes at the young Turner – apart from Will's men and Wang Tao – for his sudden apparition aboard the _Black Pearl II_, in the company of Captain Sparrow!

Will felt a bit embarrassed from being the center of attention, and he hoped Jack would soon jump on his feet and start barking orders. Precious minutes certainly couldn't be wasted by the _"How's", _the_ "Why's" _andthe_ "What's"_ asked by the rescued prisoners and the pirates about his ability to transport himself from one vessel to another, as quick as lightning. Will certainly didn't feel like explaining he had acquired this talent after becoming Captain of a ghost ship: it certainly wasn't the time and the place to do so!

The pattering sound of running feet was heard, and the tall silhouette of Bootstrap Bill pushing everyone out of his way brought a smile on Will's lips: the young man's physical heart may be missing, but he could still feel warmth spreading inside his torso whenever his loved ones – his father, Elizabeth, Will-Trey and Jack – were mentioned, and it gave Will much hope about the future, knowing that his forced duty hadn't succeeded in turning him into a bitter monster, a Davy Jones-lookalike.

"Will! Oh, thank God, you're here!" exclaimed the elder Turner, barely refraining himself from hugging his son right in public.

Bill was still a bit self-conscious about being openly affective – a behavior learned from years of piracy, where the tiniest weakness could mean death, followed by years of slavery, where the tiniest weakness _**did**_ mean eternal torment - so he lightly touched the side of Will's face, just to make sure his son was truly on the deck of the _Black Pearl II_. Will looked at the older man, and for the briefest moment he leaned on the touch. Bill felt his heart fluttering inside his chest at this small contact.

"All is fine, Papa," answered the young Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ with a quiet tone, inwardly thanking his lucky stars for his father's support. "We are now all aboard, so let's head for the open sea without wasting another minute. It is better to get those people moving before they start asking questions about how Jack and I have suddenly appeared on the _Pearl_."

"You're right, son. I'll give the orders… Oh, sorry! Jack probably wants to re-take the command of his ship, don't you, Jack?"

Only silence answered Bill Turner, and the big man turned to look at his former Captain who was still sprawled on the deck's planks, trying to breathe while mouthing silent words, his dark eyes looked twice their usual size. Sparrow was coughing with hacking sounds, his whole body twisting and turning on the wooden floor like a landed fish; in fact, he looked like he was going to pass out!

"Jack?" called Bill in concern.

Jack took several breaths to fill up his lungs with much-needed air, and also to gain a few precious seconds to regain both his wits and his bearings. The situation was worrying Bootstrap Bill and his son to no end, since they knew their common friend could bounce like a rubber ball in any given perilous situation. Maybe Will and Jack's sudden "transfer" had been the proverbial straw that had broken the camel's back? But, at the very moment both Turners reached out to Jack, the silver-tongued pirated jumped on his feet and started yelling:

"EVERYBODY TO THE CAPSTAN! HAUL THE SHEETS! RAISE THE ANCHOR! DROP IT! STORE IT! FIX IT! THE FORE STAYSAIL! THE OUTER JIB! READY THE CANNONS! MOVEMENT, I WANT MOVEMENT!"

"Jack, calm down!" exclaimed Will, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Your men cannot understand a word you're saying… and neither do I!"

"Eh? What do you mean, whelp? This is my ship and I certainly know how to command it! ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY, THIS IS YOUR INCONTESTABLE CAPTAIN SPEAKING! DON'T PRESSURE YOUR MINDS ABOUT HOW I CAME BACK ABOARD, AND CONCENTRATE ON OUR CURRENT SITUATION. JACKALS ARE AT OUR HEELS AND IT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE IF WE ALL DECIDE TO PUT as much distance as WE CAN between the hangman AND US. So, FULL CANVAS! HARD TO PORT! STEAL HIS WIND!"

Jack's words led to a flurry of activity, but incredibly his pirates didn't seem surprised by the disorganized orders. They just scrambled to get underway and the young Turner supposed rightly that they were used to Jack's strange-working mind. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Marty discreetly whispering instructions to the ex-prisoners – since they hadn't benefited from previous experience of serving under the _Black Pearl II_'s mast – so they could become useful in a fight instead of being helpless passengers. Cotton was also nearby, emphasizing the short man's words with grunts and nods while his parrot repeated endlessly: _"All hands on deck"_. But Marty did a good job explaining Jack's orders to the newbie crew, as the former captives ran to their assigned positions without adding a word.

Bill rested his hand on Will's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze:

"It was clever of you to use your ability to get Jack out of this pontoon, son. I'd have never thought it would work while holding another person in your arms, though."

"Frankly, Papa… I didn't think it would work, too. But being threatened with a seven-barreled flintlock firearm makes you think fast. I am beginning to understand where Jack gets all those great ideas!"

* * *

_Aboard the H.M.S. Justice…_

Lieutenant Charon swung the huge gun over his shoulder, secured by its leather straps, and then he started to climb over the side of the pontoon.

"Charon, what are you doing?" asked Chambers.

"What do you think I'm doing, you fool? I'm taking a longboat to go after Sparrow!" answered the Lieutenant, momentarily forgetting the respect due to a senior officer.

"Good man!" said Beckett Senior. "I'm coming with you!"

"What? H-Have you both become mad?" stammered Chambers, his bulging eyes getting even bigger from the shock. "Haven't you seen what had happened? Sparrow and his friend Turner had vanished from the pontoon's stern like ghosts!"

"So?" grunted his boss.

"What do you mean, _"So?"_? Are you actually that stupid? Sparrow has an ally who could destroy us all! He is friend with the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, the ghost ship that ferries the souls of those who died at sea from this world to the next!"

"Coward," snarled Beckett, his lips twisted in a supreme moue of disdain.

"God damn you, you've seen it with your own eyes, haven't you? Sparrow and Turner disappeared from the _Justice_ in a flash: only supernatural magic can explain that! I've heard stories about the _Flying Dutchman_ and its Captain, who is an immortal gifted with powers beyond the imagination. No bullets or swords can harm him; no tempest can sink his unnatural ship. And you are seriously considering chasing after them? It's a miracle we have escaped with our lives!"

"We didn't escape, they did!" corrected Charon. "And I won't let a scruffy pirate make a mockery of the British Crown's justice!"

"And I have another reason to go after the fugitives," said Beckett, a mad gleam shining in his ice-blue eyes. "Turner is also responsible for Cutler's death. After the maelstrom stopped, both the _Black Pearl_ and the _Flying Dutchman_ entrapped the _H.M.S. Endeavour_ and fired at it, killing my son who remained the only man aboard, like the hero he was. Sparrow commanded the _Black Pearl_ at the time, but I haven't managed to learn the name of the Captain leading the _Dutchman_ – until a moment ago, after Turner obligingly told us of his identity. I have sworn to hunt down and hang the perpetrators who had caused my son's demise and I will do it!"

"Milord!"

"Shut up, Chambers. You had tried to mislead me once, but it didn't work. So, for your treachery and your incompetence in keeping prisoners under lock and key, you will accompany me in this quest."

"What do you mean? I have never betrayed you, Milord!"

"Oh, no? What about that fairy tale about the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ being a monster covered with shells and sea creatures, just like his crew? Your very own words, said in my home, when you came begging for a captaincy! But you were telling lies in the single purpose to distract me from my vengeance. That Turner whelp is breathing, walking, acting like any normal person!"

"I told you that I saw Jones and his crewmembers as hideous monsters," corrected Chambers. "I knew nothing about a new Captain commanding the _Dutchman_!"

"I don't care!" yelled Beckett, turning crimson in violent rage. "Sparrow will pay for my son's death, and so will Turner! I want them both at my mercy!"

"No! I have no intention to run after Turner! He's a creature of magic, he's untouchable!" cried the Commander.

"You will come with us, you flea-infested mongrel!" roared Beckett, lashing out at the Commander with his riding crop. The whip landed on Chambers' right forearm, making him yelp in pain. "Or else I will make sure you will be kicked out of the army! You'll end up a disgrace, reduced to gnaw bones in the gutter while the other scumbags will spat in your face all day long!"

"And I fail to see how you can ever give any credit to these ridiculous ideas about Turner being an immortal," added Charon. "What a load of rubbish! Even the most inebriated sailor wouldn't believe such a story."

"**Then how do you explain his disappearance from the pontoon, smarty-pants?**" yelled Chambers, cradling his injured forearm, but the Lieutenant merely shrugged.

"Oh, I can't deny that he is gifted with strange powers. But I don't believe a moment in his immortality. If he were invulnerable, he wouldn't have gone through all the trouble to climb aboard the _Justice_ under a fake identity after drugging my soldiers: he would have waltzed his way in without caring about being shot at! Turner may be a sorcerer in his own ways, but he is still human so he can be vanquished. And he won't stand a chance against _**this**_," concluded Charon, gesturing towards the heavy gun hanging from his shoulder.

Chambers looked at the Lieutenant and Beckett Senior, back and forth, and then he whispered:

"You are crazy… You are a pair of lunatics!"

"Oh, are we? Well, at least we are real men, the kind who don't get scared by a little display of magic," said the grey-haired gentleman with a mocking tone. "You are nothing but a breeches-wetter, Chambers, and you jump on any occasion to skive away from your duties. Next you'll tell us that we should all hide under our bedcovers because that dying vermin has allegedly cursed us!"

Charon and Beckett snickered loudly, but the Commander felt cold shivers running up his spine; he hadn't forgotten The Maggot's last words! He played his final card:

"You won't be able to catch up with the _Black Pearl II_ on a longboat, Charon. Sparrow will be long gone before you ever leave Port Royal's waters."

"I have no intention to row my arms off! The _H.M.S. Victory_ is coming to us: we embark on the longboat and if we hurry, we will be able to meet this vessel and climb aboard. The _Victory_ is commanded by Captain Josephson and he's a man devoted to his duty; we will explain the matter to him en route, and he won't stop chasing the _Pearl_ until the last prisoner is recaptured or killed."

"We don't have a moment to loose! Let's go!" concluded Beckett Senior.

* * *

_Aboard the _Black Pearl II_…_

Jack managed to stagger his way toward the ship's rail, even though the weather was getting increasingly bad: the waves were getting bigger and the wind stronger. The first rumbles of a thunderstorm could be heard and the first raindrops were starting to fall on the fleeing pirate ship. Jack took a peek at the aft and saw the unmistakable and menacing shape of a warship getting ready to leave Port Royal. Apparently, its Captain wasn't going to stop by the pontoon for very long to investigate what the ruckus was all about!

Captain Sparrow's clever brains had already figured out what was about to happen: the three little pigs stranded aboard the pontoon would squeal and yell until the warship would reduce its speed to listen to their story, and then it would start chasing after the fugitives. The _Black Pearl II_ was a good vessel, even better than its predecessor, but Jack wasn't fooling himself: he knew Chambers had cleaned his ship of all its gunpowder, firearms and grenades after their capture nearby Port Royal, so how in the world would they defend themselves against the warship's firing guns?

The _Black Pearl II_'s only chance was in outrunning the approaching warship… provided the wind would remain a good ally. But with the upcoming storm, luck could change drastically…

"What is the situation, Jack?" asked Will, who had joined his friend at the _Pearl_'s rail while Bootstrap Bill supervised the sailors' work.

"Not too good, kiddo," answered the auto-proclaimed world-famous pirate. "There's a warship right behind us and it seems to have an unhealthy interest in our delicate persons; no doubts Beckett and his minions will hitch a ride on it and start chasing after us. It's too far for me to see what kind of bucket it is…"

"Would these items help, Lord Captain Sparrow?" asked a voice, and Jack turned about to see Wang Tao standing nearby, presenting a spyglass in one hand and a jug full of rum in the other.

"You're a life-saver, Mister Wang Tao!" exclaimed Jack, who snatched the jug away from the Chinaman's hand and swallowed its contents in three gulps. Then, he tossed the jug to the sea and grabbed the spyglass. He started to hold it to his eye while sliding the collapsing sections in and out but, in his alcoholic confusion, he failed to see he was using the wrong side of the viewing instrument, pointing the smallest lenses towards their pursuers while trying to focus his vision through the largest one. Only when Will coughed loudly did Jack realize his mistake and turned the spyglass to use it correctly.

"Hmmm, it's a frigate…" muttered Jack, oblivious to the pouring rain soaking him to the bone. "Three masts, full-rigged… This kind of ship is normally armed from twenty to twenty-eight guns, plus a few carronades thrown in for good measure… She looks fast, with a tonnage of about five hundred, and I'm ready to bet a rum distillery for a glass of water that its normal crew is composed of two hundred men. What is her name? Oh, here it is… _H.M.S. Victory_… Never heard of this one, but since it is a Royal Navy ship, there is little chance of poor maintenance and bad leadership."

"Can we escape it, Jack?"

"I dunno. Chambers certainly hadn't left any firearms or gunpowder barrels aboard the _Pearl_, so our chances to fire back are nil. The only weapons we have are the few swords and muskets we have gathered during the escape but unfortunately, it won't be enough in case of a boarding, and of very little use during a cannonade."

"But if we steal her wind…"

"Aye, that's a possibility, but not a certainty. The _Pearl II_ is the fastest ship of the Caribbean but with that thunderstorm coming, the wind could favor the _Victory_ as well, and make us sail side-by-side for a good while. And I don't think its Captain would remain on the upper deck, twiddling his thumbs – not with a bunch of escapees to catch and a tidy sum to collect as a reward! He'll fire at us and alas, we won't be able to answer to his heated arguments. Unless your ship will scare the living daylights out of his crew so much, they would give up the pursuit?"

Will looked at the horizon and the distant silhouette of the _Flying Dutchman_ got briefly illuminated by a forked lightning. At night, during a tempest, the ghost ship could actually scare some Marines, making them want to sail back to Port Royal in a hurry, but would it frighten their leader as well? Captains were usually educated men, made of stronger stuff than the usual sailors, and they were quick to dismiss superstitions – even pirate captains like Hector Barbossa, who hadn't believed in the curse of the Aztecan gold before it had been too late.

"Well, it could work, Jack. Fear is the only weapon the _Flying Dutchman_ has, since all its gunpowder has been used during the maelstrom battle. Before I left, I have ordered the remaining men to sail close to your ship, but they seem to experience difficulties in keeping up with the route. Maybe I should go back to the _Dutchman_ and help them…"

"NO! Stay here!" exclaimed Jack, wrapping his hand around the young Turner's wrist.

Will looked at the desperate grip on his arm, and then he looked at Sparrow and asked very softly:

"Jack, what is wrong?"

"N-Nothing, 'tis just… Stay with me, right? I don't like the idea of you leaving the _Black Pearl II_… Besides, it isn't safe for young people like you to wander outside at nighttime… You could fall victim of a bad meeting, savvy? And what would I say to Bootstrap, if you get mugged on your way to the _Dutchman_? He'll have my ears for sure, and I tend to treasure them, so indulge your favorite pirate and stay here. Do we have an accord?"

If not for their perilous situation, Will would have laughed out loud at that nonsense: the young man had faced swordsmen, soldiers, a giant squid, cannibals, Davy Jones and death, and Jack was suddenly worried about him getting hurt by muggers while going out in the ocean at night? The young Turner was about to say that it wasn't a good time for jokes, but one look at Sparrow's face stopped him short: Jack's obsidian-colored eyes were silently pleading for his cooperation.

"Very well, I'll stay," said Will, unable to comprehend this attitude for the moment.

"Thanks, mate," said Jack, and then he turned his attention to the observation of the warship, paying no attention to Will's astonished face.

Inwardly, the pirate captain was embarrassed to have begged the young man to remain aboard his ship, but for the life of him he couldn't voice out loud his reasons: Jack simply couldn't admit he considered Will as a good-luck charm, and that a superstitious feeling made him fear he would be recaptured if the young man ever went back to the _Flying Dutchman_. Plus, the practical part of his brains had concluded he needed the Turners to keep his crew and his new recruits under control and wherever Will went, Bootstrap would follow!

"By the way, kid… How in the world have you managed to summon a hurricane, just to make us get back aboard the _Black Pearl II_?" asked Jack in a casual tone, as if he were asking for yesterday's weather.

Will rolled his eyes heavenwards: trust Jack to change the subject so abruptly!

"It wasn't a hurricane, it was me! When Charon threatened us with his giant gun, I grabbed you, remember? And then I used my transportation ability to make us flee the pontoon."

"You mean… Your "apparition" gift, the same one Davy Jones used to move from one ship to another in company of his freakish crew?"

"I'm the only one who can do this kind of thing, after my father and my sailors have regained their human forms. I have used it many times in the past to search through flotsams for survivors, but I have always done these investigations alone. I had no idea if this trick would work with someone held in my arms, but thankfully it did."

Jack's slender frame seemed to increasingly wobble after hearing the young man's words.

"Do my ears deceive me? Have you just confessed that you have improvised that last part of your plan?"

"Aye. I honestly thought we would be able to reach the _Black Pearl II_ without mishaps, but the events proved me wrong. I haven't imagined it would take us so long to make the prisoners hop aboard your ship – and there was that explosion, which raised the alarm…"

"Not to forget the gangplank breaking down, cutting my way to freedom…"

"…And Beckett, Chambers and Charon, who had escaped from their holding place much too early. I'm sorry about using my gift to make us escape the pontoon, Jack; I know it must have been a traumatic experience for you, but I just couldn't take the risk to let Charon fire that volley gun and…"

"Sorry? Mate, don't ever be sorry for saving my skin! It would have been a great loss for the universe if Charon had succeeded in sending me knocking on Heaven's doors before the time decreed by fate. Besides, do you honestly think that little trip to the _Pearl_ via a whirlwind could knock my boots off? Bah, it was a breeze of air for me! I am the sensational Captain Jack Sparrow, remember? It just took me a little while to recover my breath since my health has been recently compromised, thanks to that prolonged stay on the pontoon where the air was stale by both the promiscuity and Beckett's presence. As for your improvisation, it just proves that you are one of my best pupils. You learn from your elder and better, and I always knew my fast thinking would rub off on you!"

"I trust your judgment, Captain Sparrow," said Will with a smile, but then the young man's handsome features suddenly froze in horror as he spotted something in the distance.

"Jack… The _Victory_ is catching up on us!"

TBC…


	18. Fire walks with me

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- More than a hundred reviews for that story, wow! Thank you very much to my kind readers!

- This chapter's title comes from the 1992 movie by David Lynch, prequel to his _"Twin Peaks"_ TV show (1990-1991).

- Details from the Greek fire come from Wikipedia.

- Wang Tao's proverb comes from Wikiquote.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Fire walks with me**

_Aboard the _Black Pearl II_…_

"Botheration! The Dragon-King is too stubborn to admit its defeat!" exclaimed Wang Tao bitterly, the rain falling relentlessly on his shaven head as he watched the _H.M.S. Victory _sailing behind the_ Black Pearl II_.

The tropical tempest was hitting in full force, and even the most incompetent sailor would have opted to remain safely at the harbor and wait until the storm would end. But obviously, the commander of the _Victory_ was either too greedy or too stupid to listen to common sense: he had slowed his ship for a few moments nearby the pontoon to gain news about the prison break, and then he had changed his course to go after the fleeing escapees.

Thunderclaps echoed loudly through the dark sky and lighting fell from lead-colored clouds to crash into the rough seawater in a blinding flash of light. The wind was getting stronger, but it wasn't helping the _Black Pearl II _too much since the_ Victory_ benefited from its powering force as well. And the frigate's crew was fresh and well fed; Jack's exhausted men hadn't had the time to recover from their ordeal in the dreaded pontoon.

"That is correct, Mister Wang Tao," answered Jack, looking at the frigate through his spyglass. "It seems that our rubicund enemy has somehow managed to climb aboard the _Victory_ in company of his two minions, and he has convinced its Captain to run after us. What a display of poor sportsmanship!"

"He'll never give up, Jack," said Will through gritted teeth. "Beckett Senior won't stop before the last prisoner is hung, and I can't "transfer" these poor people one by one aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ since they are neither dead nor dying. Without firearms, we won't be able to fight for very long!"

"Tsk, tsk. I thought I have taught you better, mate. Why fight when we have leverage?"

Will and Wang Tao looked in bewilderment at the drenched pirate, who was calmly collapsing the spyglass without looking too bothered by the warship's presence nearby.

"What do you mean, Jack? What leverage?"

"Ah, kid, you should know all about my incredible intelligence. All treasures are not made of gold and silver, thus all defenses aren't made of gunpowder and pistols, savvy? Chambers may have robbed the _Black Pearl II_ of its traditional means of argument, but Captain Sparrow has more than one ace up in his sleeve – which is normal, since he is an ace."

Wang Tao didn't seem to make head or tail of Jack's words, but Will's eyes brightened as he tucked a strand of soaked hair behind his left ear. The young man didn't know what the new plan was, but he sensed that Witty Jack had hidden a secret weapon aboard his ship – something Commander Chambers had missed while confiscating the _Pearl_'s weapons after its capture.

"Mister Wang Tao, you will tell our tall First Mate that the _Pearl II_ has to be lightened to the maximum. Unnecessary luggage like replacement masts and sails, extra tools, the broken longboat, half our cannonballs, all this must be thrown overboard at once. But the barrels stocked in the gun deck,_ the ones that have a white "X" painted on their lids, _must be brought on the helm at once. And do not, under any circumstances, try to open them. Off you go now, and stop for nothing!"

The Chinese spy apparently didn't understand what Jack was up to, but he bowed and answered: "I hear and obey, Lord Captain Sparrow," before turning heels and running towards the elder Turner.

The two men remained silent for a while, oblivious of the activity created by the latest orders, and then Jack lifted his eyes to see Will looking at him – and it reminded the scruffy pirate of a young Bootstrap Bill during their years of sailing together on the _Black Pearl_, first of the name: Bill used to have the same confident expression on his face before they would go on another pillaging.

"_Gosh, the boy is truly the spitting image of his old man," _thought the bird-named Captain._ "He looks so much like Bill, it is almost painful to see – time flies, eh? And he doesn't ask questions about my plans, too: he simply trusts me, imitating his Dad. Ah, Jacky, you will definitively be remembered as the exceptional pirate who had true friends, a wonder amongst the dark crowd of outlaws…" _

But a beautiful sight interrupted Jack's musings: Will was smiling at him.

Lightning illuminated the gold-and-silver dentition of Captain Sparrow.

* * *

_Aboard the _H.M.S. Victory_…_

Captain Bernard Josephson was renowned for being a reliable officer, a disciplinarian and a no-nonsense man with a good knowledge of the sea.

And he was also the British fleet's worst miser.

It explained why he hadn't hesitated to sail in a stormy night, on a rough sea, where the breaking of the storm could sink his vessel in a blink of an eye. Why should he care about those mere trifles, when a fortune was awaiting him aboard a defenseless pirate ship?

After the explosion had been heard aboard the _H.M.S. Justice_, Josephson's duty had ordered him to rouse his good-for-nothing sailors from their hammocks and to ready the _Victory_ for an investigation. If a riot had occurred inside the pontoon, Josephson had the obligation to help the men guarding it and his warship had been anchored the closest to the _Justice_. But after he had finally reached the pontoon, he had the surprise to see a longboat rowing towards the _Victory_ at all speed while three men aboard were yelling and signaling wildly, ignoring the risks of being crushed against the hull of the frigate. Intrigued by this little game, Josephson had ordered his crewmembers to throw lines so the three strangers could climb aboard the _Victory_ – well, actually, only two of them **did** climb at the ropes: the third one had insisted in being carried on the shoulders of the man who wasn't wielding a giant-sized gun.

After the strangers had identified themselves as Lieutenant Charon (the gun-bearer), Commandant Chambers (the unlucky carrier) and Lord Beckett (the red grouch), they had quickly explained the situation to Captain Josephson.

_The capture of pirate Jack Sparrow._

_His imprisonment aboard the pontoon._

_A visit from a young gentleman._

_Drugged soldiers. Mass jail break. Reward!_

Josephson had immediately given the order to sail after the _Black Pearl II_, ignoring his First Mate's protests or his men's interrogations. He had no love for "Cold fish" Charon and he had always considered Chambers a weakling, so in normal circumstances he couldn't have possibly care less about helping his fellow officers to chase a bunch of rag-tag captives through a tempest, honor of the British Crown or not. No Captain worthy of his title would have compromised the safety of his ship by deliberately sailing during a storm… no one but Josephson, after Lord Beckett had spoken the magic word: money.

A few chosen words to silent his First Mate, a few strikes of the whip to make his sailors obey, and the commander of the _H.M.S. Victory_ had left Port Royal's waters without a second thought. So far, the pursuit had been easy: the strong wind was reducing the distance between the hunting ship and its prey, in less than half an hour Josephson would order his men to open fire on the ex-captives. Their escape would prove to be short-lived, indeed!

Josephson glanced at the three men standing nearby him at the helm: Lieutenant Charon was busy re-loading his seven-barrel volley gun, taking great care to not let the rain soak the gunpowder; Commander Chambers was looking at the fleeing _Black Pearl II_ with a lot of utmost misery on his face; Beckett was strutting about like he was the _Victory_'s owner, kicking at any passing sailor and sometimes lashing them with a riding crop if the men weren't moving quick enough for his tastes.

That last point made Josephson frown, but he sensed open confrontation with the red-clothed buffoon wouldn't do any good for his future reward, so he simply said:

"We are catching up on the _Black Pearl II_, Milord. Soon, you will have your revenge on Sparrow."

"Be assured your help won't be forgotten, Captain Josephson," answered Beckett. The pouring rain didn't hide the saliva drooling from the corner of his mouth. "And Sparrow will pay for the humiliation and the discomfort I had to suffer! Oh yes, he will pay dearly! I thought I would only have him hanged, but I've changed my mind: he will be hanged, drawn and quartered, before being cut into four parts and beheaded. And his remains will be exposed in Port Royal until they turn into dust!"

"You must have quite a grudge against him, Milord," said Josephson, inwardly shivering at the thought of the torments awaiting the pirate.

"More than you can even think of. By the way, who are those men?" asked Beckett, gesturing towards a group of soldiers who were standing on the main deck but not participating in the ship's maneuvers. They were armed with smoothbore muskets, they spoke between each other in a foreign language, and their uniforms were different from the usual colors worn by the British troops. In fact, some of them were even wearing civilian clothes, but they all seemed well-armed and determined.

Captain Josephson snorted in disdain: "They are Hessians, troopers sent by German princes to protect our soldiers from the troublemakers of the Thirteen colonies. Some of them took the King's shilling to escape from their debts, others because they were at odds with the law and it was safer for them to be hired as mercenaries. The tallest one, Carl-Hans, is their leader."

"Mercenaries, eh?" said Beckett as a plan unfolded inside his brains.

"Aye, but they are unworthy of your attention, Milord. But I would like to ask you a question: I understand Chambers wants to recover the prisoners he had clumsily let go, and Charon said something about being duped by an accomplice in disguise, but what about you? Did Sparrow sink one of your merchant ships?"

"That's none of your business. Just do as you are told and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. In the meantime, keep your mouth shut!"

And with these departing words, Beckett Senior turned his back on the Captain and headed for the group of Hessians, who were watching the flurry of activities while exchanging ironic comments in their native tongue.

Josephson was taken aback by the gentleman's reaction: how dare did he talk to him in such a fashion, aboard his own ship and right in front of his men! The Captain was about to order his sailors to lock Beckett in the brig for insolence, but a loud cough from Chambers made him turn his attention towards the Commander.

"Yes, Chambers?"

"Don't engage in a war of words with this gentleman, Captain Josephson, you can't win," said the Commander in a low voice.

"Do I look like a spineless worm?

"Do you want your reward, or not? Then, it is better to obey him… for the time being."

Josephson's greediness overcame his wounded pride, and his large features brightened at the mention of money. He diverted his attention from Beckett, who was busily talking to Carl-Hans and, overcoming his repugnance, he asked Chambers:

"Are you sure the _Black Pearl II _is defenseless?"

"I am certain of it, Captain. I have supervised the seizing of its weapons myself, and I had this ship searched from top to bottom for hidden caches of ammunition. My boss had planned to fill the _Pearl_ with explosives to have it blown in pieces on the planned day of Sparrow's execution, but he didn't have the time to do it. The only barrels I have left aboard were the ones holding harmless liquids: drinking water and whale oil."

Josephson's bushy eyebrows were raised in surprise at those words.

"Whale oil? What in the world Sparrow had wanted to do with this?"

"Search me," said Chambers, shrugging his shoulders under his sopping wet uniform jacket. "Sparrow had kept barrels in his gun deck; they were sealed but, judging from the smells escaping from them, I figured out they were full of oil coming from these stupid beasts. It was of no use to us so I left it onboard. Who knows what kind of thing this rum-imbibed pirate had planned with this oil? But even if he tries to use it in a fight by throwing the barrels at the sea and setting them on fire, it won't do him any good under this pouring rain. Either way, he's doomed."

"Well, what about that other ship, there?" asked Josephson, pointing at the horizon. "Another pirate?"

Chambers squinted to see through the curtain of rain, and indeed the silhouette of a vessel could be seen dancing on the waves. But it was too far to see what kind of ship it was.

"I don't think so, Captain, it doesn't seem menacing and it is too far from the _Black Pearl II_, but why is it out in the open sea by this weather? Apart from us, no one would be crazy enough to sail during a storm. Maybe it is in distress, and we should abandon the pursuit to help it?" asked the Commander, unable to conceal the hope in his voice.

"Nice try, Chambers, but your cowardice won't stop me from gaining my money. Soon we will board the pirate ship, and Sparrow will be handed to justice once more. When I think about the lousy pay I'm earning from the Navy, this impromptu trip will ameliorate it nicely, heh heh! "

* * *

_Aboard the _Black Pearl II_…_

Will felt anguish filling his being: the _H.M.S. Victory_ had made good speed and it was getting too close for comfort. Jack was at the wheel, adjusting the _Black Pearl II_'s course with the expertise of an able seaman, but he didn't seem in a hurry to loose their pursuer, sailing behind his ship. Even if he knew Jack had an idea in the back of his mind, the young Turner felt torn about the upcoming battle: as a soul-ferryman, he couldn't take part in a fight so how would he defend his father, his friend, and the former prisoners – especially the children, who must be crying in fear below deck? The _Victory_ had gained on them and it would be a matter of minutes before its sailors would attack the pirate ship.

Will shivered slightly, and it wasn't due to the rainfall soaking him to the bone. He was very worried and for a moment, he was tempted to use his gift to "transport" Bootstrap Bill straight to the _Flying Dutchman_: that way, his father would be safe from the fight and William would go back to the _Black Pearl II_ in a flash to help Jack. But he also knew the elder Turner would adamantly refuse to leave Will's side, even if his son would beg him to do so!

But before the young man could solve his dilemma, he saw the barrels requested by Jack had been brought up on the helm by Cotton and a handful of sailors, led by Wang Tao and Bill Turner. The containers didn't look different from the usual ones used in a trip: they were made of curved wooden staves bound with iron hoops, standard-sized and tied one with another by lengths of rope. The only peculiar thing was that all the barrels sported an "X"-shaped cross on their lids, painted with white paint.

"Thank you, Mister Wang Tao! Your efficiency is proverbial!" exclaimed Jack, entrusting the wheel to Cotton.

"I am grateful for your approbation, Lord Captain Sparrow, even if my ridiculous person fails to see the purposes of those casks and how they will defend us against our aggressors…" started the Chinaman, but Jack waved off the objections.

"Tsk! Leave the ideas to me, and you'll go places!"

"What are you planning to do with those barrels, Jack?" asked Bootstrap Bill, moving alongside to his usual place – next to his son. "I don't remember you using this kind of ruse during our pirating days."

"Do you want to throw them at the _Victory_?" asked Will.

"That would hardly do some damage, kid!" answered Jack with his usual sarcastic grin on his lips. "No, my goal is to persuade the annoying Captain of this Navy ship, who has the pedantry to pretend stopping us from sailing wherever we want, to renounce to his delusions before becoming the proud leader of another sunken wreck lying at the bottom of the ocean."

Silence followed those words. Will and Bill exchanged a look, while Wang Tao scratched his head in puzzlement. They were all aware of the _Victory_'s closeness and of their lack of weapons, so how on Earth would those sealed barrels would help them?

Jack put his hand on Will's shoulder and guided the young man towards the cylindrical containers, as casually as if they were strolling in a park on a bright, sunny day.

"Are you concerned about the safety of the _Black Pearl II_, mate?"

"Yes!"

"Are you aware of the slim chances we currently have to shake the _H.M.S. Victory_ off our backs?"

"Certainly!"

"Are you frantic with worry about all the good people we have recently freed from the pontoon, for my hard-working but law-breaking crewmembers, and for my modest person as well?"

"Jack, what's into you? Of course, I am worried!" said Will, a bit irritated by his friend's nonchalant attitude. "If we don't go any faster, the _Black Pearl II_ is doomed!"

"Then, what do you think of those barrels, kid?"

The younger Turner was about to say that nothing was remarkable about the them, when a gush of wind gave him an indication: a strong odor was coming from the casks… something Will had never smelled before aboard a ship, in spite of his previous sailing experience.

"They smell strange, Jack."

"Care to elaborate, kiddo?" asked the pirate captain while studying his nails in a fop-like pose.

"They smell like… quicklime? Saltpeter? Is this a mixture of these two components? But there is another thing… a smell I cannot identify… Jack, what have you filled them with?"

Jack ignored the question and turned towards the elder Turner: "Bill, would you have the obligingness to have all those containers thrown overboard by afterdeck?"

Bootstrap nodded and, within minutes, the casks were floating in the wake of the _Black Pearl II_ and heading for the Royal Navy frigate. Jack took out a pistol – the same one he had used to fake taking Will hostage on the pontoon - from his weapon belt and he made a flourish with his tricorn hat as he proclaimed:

"My dear Turners, my appreciated Wang Tao and my admirable partners-in-crime, it is my honor and my privilege to display in front of your admiring eyes… _the secret weapon of the Byzantine Empire_!"

Jack fired at a barrel.

The container exploded in a multitude of wooden fragments, along with a deafening noise!

William thought it had contained gunpowder that Chambers had overlooked, but he realized his mistake when he saw… _**liquid fire**_ covering the sea, at the exact place where the barrel used to be just a second ago.

Flames roared furiously and fell on another barrel, which exploded as well, provoking a chain reaction: in a blink of an eye, the tied casks disappeared one by one in thunder and smoke. The _H.M.S. Victory_ was sailing too fast so it couldn't avoid the incredible liquid fire spilled on the sea: its hull soon was engulfed with flames. The last barrel rose above the waves and exploded in the air, showering the _Victory_'s main mast and canvases with sparks, igniting a multitude of fires on the upper deck.

Will's chocolate-brown eyes grew wide with shock: the liquid spilled by the barrels was flammable! One could have mistaken it for whale oil, but the young man instinctively knew that Jack hadn't used this kind of animal-based product: oil could burn on the sea, but it wouldn't have lasted long under a ragging storm. Here, the waves were ablaze and kept on burning, in spite of the pouring rain!

Cries of horror rang from the frigate. The sailors' first reaction was to pour water on the sails and the hull to end the fire, but panic increased as they quickly realized that water only intensified the flames instead of extinguishing them. Josephson barked orders in his speaking-trumpet, but his men were too scared to pay any attention to their Captain. Screams of abandoning ship rang across the _Victory_, while some sailors were openly saying that they were being punished for foolishly chasing after a ship from Hell.

"Jack!" exclaimed Will. "What on Earth have you done?"

"This, baby bro, is one of the most ancient and powerful weapons ever created by men: the Greek fire. It had been invented around 672 and its original composition has been unfortunately lost but after reading a few books, my inspired mind has managed to recreate it with a composition of my own: naphtha, quicklime, and sulfur. Greek fire was used by the Byzantines in naval battles, as its main property is to continue burning even on water. So the _H.M.S. Victory_ is on for a little fire on board… a sailor's worst nightmare!"

The young Turner noted that the Greek fire was effectively scorching the frigate's hull and billowed everywhere, raising a cloud of smoke in the air. In spite of the rain, the flames didn't seem to weaken and loud screams followed the explosion of gunpowder barrels, adding more flames on the deck. The _Victory_'s sailors were running in all directions, completely at a loss about what to do in this situation and they couldn't even ready the longboats to evacuate the warship, since the liquid fire kept on burning on the ocean's surface.

The _Pearl_'s crewmembers had gathered at the ship's rail, watching in wonder at the Royal Navy vessel surrounded by flames. The pirates were yelling insults and cheering their commander's astuteness, while the former prisoners smiled broadly at the thought that their ordeal was finally over. Pintel and Ragetti were laughing like hysterical hyenas, Cotton was giving Marty a piggyback ride to give the short pirate a chance to get a better look at their enemy – much to his parrot's dissatisfaction, since Cotton's shoulders were the bird's favorite perch – and even the burly man, the one who had fought Will on the gangplank during their escape, was shaking his fist towards the frigate while predicting its crew a fish-feeding future, looking more confident than a moment before.

"_Yi pao er hong_: one bang famous!" exclaimed Wang Tao.

"But isn't it possible to extinguish this Greek fire?" asked Bootstrap Bill.

"Not with the usual means, my good man! Only sand or mud are efficient by depriving the Greek fire of air, and these natural elements are kind of rare in the open sea. So our opponents should act wisely and turn tail to go back where they come from, leaving us dishonest folks alone!"

"Along with Beckett and his minions!" said Will, his dark eyes shining at the sight of the distressed warship. "They will be forced to abandon the pursuit. The prisoners are saved!"

"Aye, kid. Looks like ol' Lord Bertie will be done all the way! The only thing left for him would be to eat his vermillion costume piece after piece in front of the good citizens of Port Royal, humiliated six days to Sunday. Am I up to my worldwide reputation, Captain Turner?"

"Jack, you're brilliant!" said Will sincerely. "Even without weapons, you have managed to defeat our foes!"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, remember?" answered the pirate with a wink.

The four men stared at the flame-covered warship, which was still sailing after the _Black Pearl II_ but it was loosing speed; soon the _Victory_ would give up and sail back to Jamaica in terror, its sailors babbling endlessly about being vanquished by barrels full of demoniacal liquid that could burn on the sea. Beckett would be enraged beyond words, but even he would have to admit that catching escapees while sailing aboard a burning ship was next to impossible – no matter how many swearwords he could let or how many coins he could offer, so he would have to bow to Jack's ingeniousness like everybody else.

Victory was for the pirates.

"Alas, unknown Captain of the _H.M.S. Victory_, you will remember this day as the one you have almost chased after Captain Jack Sparrow!"

TBC…


	19. Author's note

**Author's note**

* * *

My dear readers and reviewers,

I am sorry to announce that I won't be able to post a new chapter this week. My father broke his leg on Thursday, so I have been busy filling up forms at the hospital and taking care of things for my mother. As you can guess, this event took a lot of my writing time!

I will probably post the new chapter by June 20th. My father will be discharged from the hospital next Thursday, and things will look a lot better.

Thank you so much for your weekly enthusiasm and appreciations about this story!

Best regards,

Rose de Sharon


	20. A l'abordage!

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Hi, I'm back! Thank you very much for your support, I really needed it. My father is better and he'll be soon discharged from the hospital, but some of my family members drive me crazy!

- The chapter's title is the usual French call for a boarding.

- To ABC: Please be assured I meant no offence. Mercenaries have existed since Classical Antiquity like in Gustave Flaubert's book, _"Salammbô"_ (1862) which tells about the Mercenary Revolt against Carthage after the First Punic War. I've made them Hessian because their leader, Carl-Hans, is partly inspired by Christopher Walken's character in the _"Sleepy Hollow" _1999 movie. You'll note that Captain Josephson mentioned _"__Troublemakers__ in America"_ and not _"__Revolutionaries__ in America"_, hinting the revolution hasn't started yet. As for Port Royal and Tortuga, I am well aware of their destruction before the Age of Piracy's has ended… But in the POTC universe, those places are still alive. Remember, the name of the game is entertainment! :oD

* * *

**Chapter 19: ****À l'abordage!**

_Aboard the _H.M.S. Victory_…_

Captain Josephson thought he had gone mad: one minute his prey was at his fingertips' reach, the next minute his ship had turned into a floating Hell!

He remembered barrels being thrown from the _Black Pearl II_ and he had dismissed them as cargo the pirates were getting rid of to gain more speed. Then, he had seen Sparrow firing his pistol at one of the caskets, and it had intrigued him since Chambers and Beckett had sworn the fleeing ship didn't have any gunpowder whatsoever. And then…

_Explosions!_

_Liquid fire!_

_The _Victory_ was an inferno!_

His sailors were screaming, crying and running in every direction, as their efforts in trying to extinguish the flames proved to be useless. Pouring rain, numerous buckets of water, nothing had helped and the liquid fire kept on burning, destroying the _Victory_'s hull, its masts and the canvases, burning every panicking man in its path and the feet trying to stomp on it. Josephson briefly remembered Chambers telling him about barrels of whale oil left at the _Pearl_'s gun deck, but that damned fool had made a mistake; whatever that foul-smelling stuff had been, it certainly wasn't whale oil: it couldn't make this kind of damages!

The _Victory_'s Captain cursed the disgraced Commander to the moon and back: trust that moronic Chambers to leave a dangerous weapon aboard a pirate ship! The man was definitively up to his reputation; a pity Josephson had to learn it the hard way.

"Abandon the pursuit! Emergency posts! Lower the longboats!" yelled Josephson in his speaking-trumpet.

"Are you crazy? We can't loose time lowering longboats! We haven't captured Sparrow yet!" protested Beckett Senior, sputtering saliva. He had vainly tried to make the crewmembers go back to their posts by whipping them senseless, but one fed-up sailor had slapped the riding crop away from his hand so he had climbed back at the helm to complain to the Captain.

"You're the loony here, Beckett!" replied Josephson. "The _Victory_ is in flames, in case you haven't noticed! It will be a matter of minutes before this liquid fire reaches the _santabárbara_! We barely have the time to evacuate!"

"Evacuate? But what about Sparrow and the prisoners, we can't let them flee!"

"To Hell with Sparrow! Don't you understand, you lunatic? He has won the battle!"

"NO! NO!" roared Beckett Senior, his face as red as his ruined costume. "I WON'T LET THAT SMELLY PIRATE WIN! HE CAN'T WIN! HE MUST BE BROUGHT BACK TO PORT ROYAL TO BE EXECUTED! I WON'T LET HIM MAKE A MOCKERY OF MY AUTHORITY! HE KILLED MY SON! HE MUST PAY FOR THIS, AND HIS ACCOMPLICE WILL BE HANGED AS WELL! I WANNA KILL THEM BOTH!"

Beckett's outburst would have been more convincing if his makeshift belt – a length of dirty rope – hadn't come loose and almost made his pants drop on the main deck. The would-be lord grabbed his breeches in a desperate attempt to keep his dignity, but the movement hadn't escaped Josephson's attention. He snorted in derision, and then he said:

"Suit yourself, but after you will be blown to smithereens along with my ship, don't come crying to me! I'm abandoning the pursuit, and that's final!"

A deafening BANG was suddenly heard close to the Captain's head, and Josephson had a vision of exploding red stars before starting to swoon in front of the _Victory_'s wheel. He tried to regain his footing but his body wouldn't obey. In fact, he felt as lifeless as a rag doll and the stars were replaced within seconds by impenetrable darkness. Captain Josephson croaked once in the throes of agony, and then he collapsed on the deck's floor. His last thought was for the gold coins he would never have the chance to spend.

Cuthbert Beckett blinked furiously to keep the blood and gore away from his eyes: the explosion had covered his face with the remnants of Josephson's brains! He couldn't possibly care less about the Captain's fate – in fact, his sudden death was serving his purposes – but who was the shooter? Certainly not a pirate of the fleeing _Black Pearl II_!

Beckett looked up and saw Charon with a smoking flintlock pistol in hand and his usual icicle-like smile plastered on his face. The Lieutenant had shoot Josephson at point blank and he didn't seem bothered at all by his actions, even though he had just changed from Royal Navy officer to cold-blooded murderer. Commander Chambers was puking his guts out at the sight of Josephson's destroyed head while the mercenaries' leader Carl-Hans (a tall man, with wild dark hair and black clothes, wielding a huge sword) merely shrugged at this blatant act of mutiny. Some sailors had witnessed the murder of their Captain and they wanted to report it to the _Victory_'s First Mate, but they were impeached in their efforts by both the roaring fire and the tempest.

"Good shot, Charon!" exclaimed Beckett, genuinely happy. "We are free from that coward's whining!"

"Yes, but he was partly right, Milord. The _Victory_ won't last long against this liquid fire. Our only hope to catch Sparrow and the fake Lord Burlington is to board the _Black Pearl II_."

"Board?!" asked Chambers incredulously, wiping his mouth clean with his uniform vest's sleeve. "But Josephson's men will never obey us after you have killed their commander! His First Mate will throw us in the brig within minutes, and we will be executed at Port Royal on murder charges!"

"Who said we will use those flea-infested losers, you mongrel?" roared Beckett. "Carl-Hans here has agreed to help us! With his men, we will use grappling lines and then swing aboard the _Black Pearl II_. Have you forgotten that the pirates are defenseless? They barely have firearms, so it will be a piece of cake to cut down the whole lot of them, including the brats and the whores. Just remember that Sparrow is mine!"

"And the pseudo Lord Burlington is mine," completed Charon, absently drumming his fingers on his volley gun's seven barrels.

"You've agreed to this madness?" asked Chambers to the mercenaries' leader, but Carl-Hans shrugged again.

"I have no intention of staying on a burning ship," answered in good English the tall Hessian, "so why shouldn't I earn some extra money by fighting a bunch of pirates?"

"Your reward has just increased, Carl-Hans: you will receive both the money I've promised you and the gold I intended to give to this lump of fat," said Beckett as he kicked the inert corpse of the late Captain Josephson. The movement made another gush of blood to escape from the shattered skull and Chambers vomited again – gastric acid, this time.

"Can't you keep your insides' contains for yourself, Chambers?" asked Charon contemptuously.

"You are madmen," managed to say the Commander between two heaves. "You… have murdered Josephson… Even if you manage to… recapture Sparrow a-and his men… it won't stop the court-martial judges from hanging y-you… And you, Beckett, you will be… sentenced as his accomplice… No a-amount of money will bail you out… Damn you, Charon! Y-You have… doomed us all…"

"No jury would ever dare to convict me!" yelled Beckett.

"And who cares about the Navy's greybeards, anyway? I'm taking my chances with Lord Beckett. He has enough money for us to vanish from the Earth's surface, and we can also earn a tidy sum from selling the _Black Pearl II_ in an American port, like in New York for example. I happen to know a ship owner there who doesn't ask indiscreet questions."

"You are… crazies!" said Chambers weakly.

"Well, if you want to take your chances and try to return to Jamaica on a burning ship, you are more than welcome to do so," said Charon sarcastically. "If you survive the trip, then you will have a wonderful time explaining your corruption, your inability to keep an outlaw in chains, the massive escape from the _Justice_ and your massive stupidity making you ignores barrels full of Greek fire's liquid aboard a pirate ship. The court-martial judges will have a field day with your testimony! They will laugh like hyenas just before sentencing you to the rope."

Carl-Hans, Beckett Senior and Charon turned their backs on the disgraced commander, followed by the group of mercenaries. They were all so focused on their goals, namely revenge and gold, they completely ignored the panicky cries of the H.M.S. _Victory_'s crewmembers or their calls of the First Mate, who had witnessed Captain Josephson's death but was too far to intervene. Chambers watched his boss and his former subordinate walking away; he knew the frigate was doomed and he hadn't had a snowball's chance in Hell to convince the authorities at Port Royal that he hadn't been a willing participant in Beckett's conspiracy. Gossips, rumors, awkward explanations would weave Chambers' shroud and the very idea of being led to the gallows would have made him vomit again if his stomach had been full.

The Commander was a cornered man; he had no other choice than to follow Beckett, Charon and the mercenaries in their mad attack against the _Black Pearl II_. But there was still a ray of hope: in spite of their lack of weapons, the pirates would defend themselves so there was a chance the Lieutenant and the self-proclaimed noble would be killed, solving all of Bartholomew Chambers' problems in a single move.

"_And maybe I will be able to even the odds a little," _thought the Commander, feeling for the pistol hidden under his uniform's vest. _"In the melee, a stray shot could accidentally end Beckett's life… Jack Sparrow is a clownish pirate but he isn't a murderer: he will let me go after I had killed his worst enemy."_

He looked up, and saw Charon turning the _Victory_'s wheel in the direction of the _Black Pearl II_.

* * *

_Aboard the _Black Pearl II_…_

"Lord Captain Sparrow! The _Victory_ is coming for us!" yelled Wang Tao.

"What?!" exclaimed Jack, his usual self-praising cut short like from a cutlass' strike. His dark eyes widened at the sight of the burning frigate, which was actually sailing straight in the direction of the _Black Pearl II_. Ignoring its conditions and against all common sense, the _Victory_'s Captain had obviously decided to ram them if it would be the last thing he'd do on Earth – and the pirate ship would be damaged by either the collision or the Greek fire, whichever came first.

"Hard to port! Full canvas! Steal her wind!" yelled Jack. His men scrambled to their posts but everyone knew there wouldn't be enough time. Will had borrowed the spyglass to take a look at the H.M.S. _Victory_, while Bootstrap Bill remained close to his son as his instincts were telling him in full force that a boarding was imminent.

"Our adversaries want us to accompany them in their dive into the ocean's silent gardens!" growled Wang Tao.

"Aye, well we'd rather kiss Davy Jones on the mouth before we give him that satisfaction. Correct, Mister Wang Tao?"

"Quite so, Lord Captain Sparrow."

"Jack, I don't think this maneuver has been decided by the _Victory_'s Captain," said Will as he adjusted the spyglass to his vision.

"What do you mean, matey?"

"As far as I can see, Lieutenant Charon is at the wheel, and a group of men led by Beckett Senior are getting lines ready by securing them to the riggings… They don't look like sailors or soldiers, but judging from their weapons, they are probably foreign combatants…"

Jack winced at the news: through an unfortunate, entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that had genuinely nothing whatsoever to do with him for once, his triumph had been compromised. Charon at the wheel could only mean that Cold Fish had eliminated the _Victory_'s unknown Captain, and ol' Bertie had recruited mercenaries on the spot to chase after them. The presence of foreign fighters aboard a Royal Navy vessel wasn't surprising – in fact, almost every warship carried a bunch of mercenaries heading for whatever part of the world sheltering British Crown's rebels – and apparently, Beckett Senior had bribed those blades for hire in his never-ending chase after the brilliant Captain Jack Sparrow.

"We must get outta here right now, and run like the cowardly weasels we are!" said Jack. "Action stations! Into the swell! Go square to the wind! Movement, I want movement! Mister Wang Tao, bring downstairs the prisoners who wish to retire from the main deck! Try to find weapons – anything that can be blunt – for the others! Bill, take William and you both lock yourselves up in my cabin!"

"What? I won't leave you to face Beckett on your own! I want to stand by your side!" protested the young Turner, untying Ammand's embroidered cloak from around his neck to let it drop on the helm's floor. The garment was soppy wet from the rain and it was too heavy for Will to wear during a swordfight.

"No can do, whelp: you are bound to ten years of soul-transportation duty so you can't be compromised in a bloodbath."

"But…"

"Hear me out, mate: for this soul-ferry business to work, it has to be conducted by a man of undisputable honor. Calypso goofed years ago by entrusting the wrong man for this task, and it ended in tears and monstrosity. Things have become brighter for the ocean's wandering spirits after you've become Captain, because resentment cannot affect you – unlike mucus-faced Jones. But you haven't fired a single shot since you have taken charge of the _Flying Dutchman_. No wonder here, it's a peaceful ghost-helper again so guns would look a bit odd aboard the _Dutchman_. So, to carry on the good supernatural work, you have to remain immaculate, kiddo – and this kind of state is impossible to keep during a fight."

Will's handsome features darkened slightly at the recollection of old memories: "You give me too much credit, Jack. I haven't always done honorable things in the past… I've fought you many times, I betrayed you to Sao Feng; I strapped cadavers to floating barrels so Cutler Beckett could trail us to Shipwreck Island…"

"Bah! Trifles," said the pirate shrugging his shoulders. "What's wrong with little duels between friends? They were good practice, and I won them every time thanks to my uncanny ability to cheat. As for Sao Feng and the corpses, I'm ready to bet my gold teeth that you wouldn't have done it if I had listened to your pleas in saving Bootstrap. I put the blame of your actions on my prolonged stay in the Locker, which temporarily altered my superior intelligence."

Will played his trump card: "You're wounded, Jack. You need someone to watch your back…"

"I'm more concerned by my front, but I trust Mister Wang Tao's abilities in keeping annoying persons at a safe distance from it."

Suddenly, Jack grabbed the young man's wrist and held it tight, an intense light shining inside his jet-black eyes.

"Will, go to my cabin with Bill **right now**! Captain's orders, and I don't give a damn if you are also a Captain, savvy? Please, mate?"

Bootstrap chose this moment to say: "He's right, son. The _Dutchman_'s Captain cannot forfeit his honor by participating in a fight, because…"

His voice trailed off, but Will understood his father's unspoken words: because killing other men could transform the young Turner into a monster, just like Davy Jones, and he would never be released from his duty by his faithful wife. Bill and Jack were cared too much about his chance of future freedom to let it pass out of loyalty for Sparrow! That was a huge step for Jack: a few years ago, he wouldn't have minded using any kind of means to save his skin, including endangering other people. But the _Pearl_'s Captain had changed his attitude those past few years… especially towards the younger Turner.

Will sighed heavily, feeling the heavy burden of his duty on his shoulders; once again, his forced captaincy was preventing him from doing what he truly wanted… and Jones had the nerve to call this bounding to the _Flying Dutchman_ _"Absolute freedom"_! What a rotten joke! But one look at his father and his friend's concerned faces instantly melted his anger, so he nodded in acknowledgement: "Fine, I'll go downstairs to the Great Cabin. But I don't like it, Jack."

"To ease your mind, just tell yourself you are protecting your father from harm, kid! Besides, this silly business with Beckett Senior will be over before you'll have a chance to say _"Rum distillery"_…"

At the same moment, the _Victory_ was almost on the _Black Pearl II_! Jack had barely the time to turn the wheel, and the collision was avoided just in the nick of time.

"… Or maybe not!" finished Jack, grunting under the strenuous effort in keeping his vessel away from the burning frigate.

Screams started to erupt aboard the _Pearl_ at the sight of the approaching flames; Jack's quick thinking had prevented the ramming, but the momentum had provoked the fall of liquid fire's droplets on the pirate ship's hull and main deck: the Greek fire was turning against his author, and for the briefest instant Captain Sparrow wondered if he would be vanquished by one of his own ruses. The idea revolted him: his world-famous legend couldn't end up so stupidly!

Bootstrap Bill suddenly roared: **"Extinguish those flames! Use old canvases or blankets, but under no conditions use water! HURRY!"**

Galvanized by the elder Turner's voice, Marty and Cotton set up the example by throwing an old piece of cloth on the burning flames on the deck's planks. The other pirates and ex-prisoners followed the lead, but Jack gasped in horror as he saw men jumping from the _Victory_'s yard-arms, using grappling hooks and lines, swinging toward the pirate ship with ferocious yells! As soon as those intruders had landed on the _Pearl_'s main deck, they attacked the crew randomly, using hand grenades, pistols and blunderbusses. Their leader, a tall man all dressed in black, was wielding a huge sword over his head while yelling orders in a tongue that Jack instantly recognized: it was German.

The mercenaries were only fifteen in number, but their weapons and their war experience made them formidable. The frightened former captives didn't have a chance against those men, and most of them fell on the spot before they even had the chance to reach cover. Cries of pain rang out through the stormy night, adding to the deafening noises of thunder and sharp cracks of lighting.

Jack's crewmembers tried to defend themselves by throwing various items at their aggressors' heads. Marty deliberately crouched on the deck just behind a mercenary, making the man stumble and fall backwards, giving Pintel the opportunity to punch his lights out. Wang Tao's blades were flying through the air and one dagger buried itself to the hilt in one Hessian man's throat: he fell with gurgling sounds escaping from his mouth. Ragetti knocked at a man's head with a glowing taper, but his movement was too violent and the taper bounced back, hitting the skinny pirate on the face. Even Cotton's parrot joined the fight by locking its talons on a mercenary's hair and picking at his scalp with its beak while screeching repetitively: _"Welcome aboard! Welcome aboard!"_.

But Carl-Hans was doing a massacre with his sword, slashing mercilessly at the crewmembers with the easiness of a peasant using a scythe in a wheat field, felling many men – too many men! – in a perfect imitation of the Grim Reaper. Suddenly, familiar silhouettes zoomed through the air on grapping lines and landed on the Pearl's main deck, right in the middle of the fight. One was a man all dressed in red, another was holding an oversized gun and a third one was hesitantly following behind: Beckett Sr., Charon and Chambers.

Jack squeaked like a frightened mouse and, out of habit, he crouched behind the wheel in a poor attempt to hide from his enemies. Bootstrap grabbed his son's arm in an iron-like grip, ignoring the vehement protests and the two Turners ran down the flight of stairs. In a swift movement, Bill threw Will inside the Great Cabin and slammed the door behind them, just before turning the key in its lock.

"Good man, Bootstrap Bill! You can always count on him to obey my orders," said Jack between his teeth. Still in his crouching position, he started to move behind the various crates and barrels stocked at the helm to avoid detection by hostile eyes.

"Now, if my sensational person can be preserved from bullets' trajectories and swords too sharp for appreciation, I can safely imagine being able to reach my world-famous ship's lower decks and trust my resourceful brains to find some much-needed leverage, thus getting rid of those unwanted rude passengers currently making holes in both my deck and my crew…"

A pair of legs suddenly materialized in front of the crouching pirate. Jack gulped loudly as he realized that those legs were wearing buckle-fastened shiny dark shoes, white stockings and crimson breeches with golden embroideries.

A ridiculous outfit and only one man in the world would be mad enough to dress up like this.

Sighing loudly, Jack looked up and saw the face of his nemesis.

"Well, well, well," said Cuthbert Beckett with a sneer, a pistol in one hand and his riding crop in the other. "It seems the great Captain Sparrow has finally come to grovel before me!"

* * *

_Inside the _Black Pearl II'_s Great Cabin…_

"Oh Papa, what are we going to do?" asked Will as the sounds and the screams of the boarding were raging outside the Great Cabin.

"We will follow Jack's instructions to the letter, my love. We will remain here until the fight is over," answered the elder Turner, his back leaning heavily on the cabin's thin door in an effort to keep the mercenaries outside their hiding place.

"But I can't twiddle my thumbs while Jack or the other shipmates get slaughtered by Beckett and his mercenaries!" The young Turner's voice was shaking in barely-contained rage, frustrated to not be able to defend the silver-tongued pirate and the wild bunch of ragtag rascals he had grown to like.

"Jack is resourceful, son; I know he will find a way to gain the upper hand on his enemies. And you know he's right about forbidding you to participate in the fight. Guns and swords cannot affect your body but if you kill anyone during this boarding, it might sully your soul. Jack doesn't want anything that could compromise your chance of being freed from your duty, and God knows I don't want it either. You are one year short of being reunited with Elizabeth and it would break her and Will-Trey's hearts to see that you have… _changed_… during your exile."

The elder Turner's voice faltered and he fell silent, unable to voice out the terrible souvenirs of his own transformation during his slavery. Bill had been transforming into an amalgam of sea creatures and corral, and never, to his dying day, would he forget his horrible appearance. Anyone would have run away in fright at the sight of the disfigured man; anyone but Will, who had looked at his wretched father with eyes full of love. Only his cherished William had enough light within him to see past the curse; he had looked deeper, right into Bill Turner's eyes, and it had ended in an oath to free him from the forced oath he had pledged.

"I won't turn into Davy Jones!" protested Will. He knew he had promised to stay clear from the boarding but his word was getting more and more difficult to keep by the second.

"You can't take the risk, my darling, for your family's sake. And I can't let you take it, either. Please, indulge your old man and your friend: Jack and I both know how easy it is easy to be contaminated by anger in the heat of a fight."

"I have gone through battle before, Papa, many times: pirates, British marines, cannibals to name a few!"

"Aye, but you have fought only to save your life and those of the persons you love, son: you never did it out of greed or hate. Besides, this happened before you became the commander of the _Flying Dutchman_: whatever you did in the past, it was erased the moment you acquired your captaincy. But as a soul-ferryman, you must remain pure for ten years."

"But what if Jack dies because I haven't helped him? How will I ever be able to live with myself, knowing I didn't do anything to prevent this disaster?"

"You have nothing to reproach yourself! Jack has asked you to step back from the fighting as a favor to him," said Bootstrap Bill firmly, and then his voice broke when he added: "I swore to protect your soul at all costs, son, and I am ready to beg… beg you on my knees if it could convince you to stay here with me."

The young man's eyes misted, and he spontaneously wrapped his arms around his father's neck. As he buried his face in Bill's shoulder, he felt the older man crushing him to his powerful chest, holding him as if he didn't want to let him go. Because of the loud noises of the boarding, Will couldn't listen to _"The Secret"_ but he didn't need it to bask in Bootstrap's affection. The elder Turner was nothing but entirely devoted to his son's happiness and Will would be eternally grateful for having such a wonderful man by his side.

"I will never, never ask you to do this, Papa! Humiliating youself in such a fashion would be a vile act from me! God, I love you so much…"

"Little One, my darling! Please don't despair; I am sure Jack will come up with a solution…"

At the same moment and through one of the Great Cabin's windows, the two men saw the slender frame of Captain Jack Sparrow being thrown across the flight of stairs to land on the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck in a crumpled heap.

"… Or maybe not!" said the two Turner in unison.

TBC…


	21. Birds of a feather

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Dad's home! :oD

- This chapter's title comes from a quote from "The Republic": _"__Men of my age flock together; we are birds of a feather__,"_ written in 360 B.C. by Plato (428/427 B.C. – 348/347 B.C.)

- I don't speak German so I apologize if the translation isn't accurate.

- Jack's quote is from "Henry VI", written in 1588–1590 by William Shakespeare (1564–1616).

* * *

**Chapter ****21: Birds of a feather**

_On the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

"I protest! The awesome Captain Sparrow can't be kicked off the helm of his own ship!" grumbled Jack, picking himself up from the wet main deck after being flung through the stairway.

The impact with the main deck's planks didn't do anything to improve his wounds, and he felt humiliated by the fact Cuthbert Beckett had managed to beat him twice in a row with his riding crop. Jack had to dive desperately to avoid the strikes of the whip, resulting in an unexpected and undignified fall down the stairs. Of course, ol' Bertie could only overpower injured opponents, since fighting fair wasn't in the blood of the rotten-to-the-core Beckett family, but still! Jack was soaked to the bone and his wet garments were clinging uncomfortably on his skin, slowing his defensive movements. His mane of dreadlocks and braids kept on dangling in front of his eyes and for a brief, mad moment he considered using his sword to give himself an impromptu haircut.

His crewmembers were still fighting hard, especially Wang Tao, and the mercenaries' number was decreasing thanks to the combined efforts of Marty, Cotton, Pintel and Ragetti. The H.M.S. _Victory_ had abandoned pursuit after the narrow collision with the pirate ship, and it was dragging its burning and crippled state back to Port Royal as best as it could, by authority of its new commander. But the _Black Pearl II_ wasn't faring very well under the tempest: without guidance, the wheel was turning freely, making the boom swing in every direction, and the violent winds could make the vessel capsize or heel over. Jack had to regain control of the _Pearl_ before this kind of horrible catastrophe would happen to his beloved ship… but Beckett Senior didn't seem willing to cooperate.

Speaking of the Devil…

"Ah! I have you now, Sparrow!" yelled in joy the red-clothed gentleman while jumping down the stairs, yielding his riding crop up in the air like a war hatchet. He moved his flintlock pistol's hammer to full-cock, thus releasing the safety lock, and aimed his firearm at the _Black Pearl II_'s Captain. "GET READY TO DIE! You're going to pay for what you did to my son!"

"Promises, promises," answered Jack with his usual nonchalance, using his sword like a crutch to get on his feet. "You really should consider changing your harangue, Beckett; your constant repetitions could make you be mistaken for Cotton's parrot, which would be kind of aberrant for a _Sus scrofa domesticus_ like you."

"_**What?**_"

"Not overly educated, are you? _Sus scrofa domesticus_ is the Latin name for the common pig. Oink, oink, there's a hog aboard the _Pearl_! Prepare for a barbecue party, lads!"

The triumphant expression vanished from the vainglorious enemy's face, and Jack laughed out loud in delight: nothing, in this world or another, could beat the sagacious mind of Captain Sparrow!

"I'm astounded by your nerve and your insolence, Sparrow!" said Beckett, the flintlock pistol shaking in his hand out of indignation. "There you are, at my mercy and you make stupid jokes instead of begging for your life! Surrender, and maybe I will grant you a trial once we're back at Port Royal. You'll get an attorney and a chance to explain your actions in front of Judge Carr…"

"_The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers__."_

Beckett howled, but Jack's ruse had worked: using the attention lapse, he kicked hard at the hand wielding the pistol, making the weapon fell on the deck's planks with a loud thud. The would-be noble yelled again, but this time it was for the pain exploding inside his fingers: some of them had broke under the impact of Jack's boot! Beckett yelled obscenities just before swinging blindly his riding crop at Jack, half-mad with rage; but the silver-tongued pirate deftly cut the whip in two with one strike of his sword, and then he rested its point right under his opponent's Adam apple.

"Two weapons down, none more to go! Now, consider long and hard the tempting idea to capitulate, savvy? Because, frankly, your only role in this ball of mud and water is of a loser, consequently trying to fight your destiny is just a big fat waste of my time. Me, living my last moments on Earth? Good grief, nobody speaks like that in real life! Don't quit your day job, Beckett, you are no playwright. Me, surrendering? Highly unlikely! Even Davy Jones couldn't make me yield so you thought you had a chance? But compared to Jones, you are nothing but a decomposing sea cucumber! Me, getting a fair trial at Port Royal? I'm gonna make you walk the plank in the nude for your pitiful try in luring me with false promises!"

A flash of lighting streaked the dark sky, illuminating Jack's gold teeth as he imagined Beckett Senior in his birthday suit, trying to keep his balance on a wobbly plank: that would be truly a horrible sight to behold, the kind parents protect their children from!

"Y-You wouldn't d-d-dare!" managed to stutter Cuthbert Beckett with the business end of a sword pressing harder on his throat.

"Two words: narrow cell," answered Jack with a mocking smile. Oh, how he loved those sweet moments of victory!

At the same moment, Commander Chambers had crawled his way to the place where the pirate captain was holding his former employer at sword's point. The disgraced leader of Fort Charles could hardly believe his luck: he had managed to cross the boarding's melee unscathed! The yelling pirates had been too busy pounding the Hessian mercenaries to the ground to notice a dishevelled British marine creeping through the upper deck's shadows, or maybe some of the outlaws had simply dismissed him as an unworthy opponent. An oversight he was going to take advantage of, as he was standing… right behind Jack's back!

Chambers got his hidden pistol out of his uniform's vest, aimed it and slowly pointed it in the general direction of the _Black Pearl II_'s Captain. He had to control his shaky nerves, as he had only one chance to make the prime witness of his corruption disappear from the face of the world, without risking of being accused of any wrongdoings. _Steady… Steady…_

Beckett Senior saw his minion from over Jack's shoulder, and a tiny nasty smile spread on his lips. That mongrel Chambers was finally becoming useful! He was going to shot Sparrow in the back, and the pirate would never know what had hit him before it would be too late!

Chambers' finger tightened on the trigger…

* * *

_Inside the _Black Pearl II_'s Great Cabin…_

The Turners father and son were watching the boarding through the Great Cabin's dirty window panel looking over the main deck. For a moment, it had seemed that the outlaws were getting the upper hand in the fight: ex-prisoners and pirates had been fighting with renewed energy after the H.M.S. _Victory_ had abandoned the pursuit, and the mercenaries had realized a bit too late that they wouldn't get any kind of reinforcements from their former allies. Ammunitions were getting low and Lieutenant Charon, for some obscure reason, wouldn't fire his seven-barreled smoothbore gun into the crowd! Carl-Hans was still roaring orders in German, but he had come to grips with Wang Tao and the Chinaman seemed resolute in adding the tall man's sword to his trophy collection.

Hope had returned for Will and Bill after they had witnessed Beckett Senior being at Jack's mercy; the Turners had felt allowed to breathe again at this sight, but then anguish had seized them as they spotted Chambers creeping behind Jack and aiming a pistol at the pirate captain's back.

"**JACK! WATCH OUT!**" screamed Will, but the sounds of the boarding covered his warning. Bootstrap Bill squeezed his son's shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but the desperate young man could only watch in horror the danger threatening his best friend…

* * *

_On the _Black Pearl II'_s main deck…_

Commander Bartholomew Chambers was so close to his goal, it was intoxicating; a little more pressure on the trigger, and his main worry would be silenced forever. How simple, how easy! Why hadn't he thought of this mean before?

The flintlock pistol's barrel was close to Jack's back. At this distance, Chambers couldn't miss his target. With the thundering noises of the tempest mixed to the boarding's, his shot would be completely unnoticed by anyone. It was going to be the perfect crime! He would be able to go back to Port Royal with an innocent look on his face!

_Steady… Steady…_

But Chambers hesitated a second too long, and Captain Jack Sparrow was an expert in self-preservation. He couldn't be fooled by the very obvious trick of leaving his back unprotected: a sudden roundhouse kick from him knocked the Commander's pistol out of his hand, making it flying through the air before landing in the pirate's palm! Jack pointed the firearm at his former owner – who was looking positively pole-axed by this turn of events – while keeping his sword pressed against Beckett's throat. It was leaving Jack in a dangerous position, being sandwiched between two enemies and aiming weapons at both of them in the same time, but he could hardly do otherwise for the moment.

"Trying to shoot me in the back, Barty?" asked Captain Sparrow with a sarcastic smile. "Now that's original, coming from a bladder-control-deprived fellow!"

"Chambers, you mutt!" roared Beckett Senior. "You have managed to fail shooting Sparrow! You are nothing but a dog, a good-for-nothing and smelly fleabag!"

"No, no! You don't understand, Sparrow!" said Chambers, raising his hands in a suppliant gesture out of fear he would be shot down any moment. "Listen to me; I wasn't going to shoot you… I was aiming at Beckett!"

Jack's eyes went huge at this declaration, while the scarlet-clothed gentleman's face was rigid with rage.

"You **what**?" asked the two men in a same voice.

"Sparrow, I have enough of this. My association with Beckett has brought me nothing but trouble. He couldn't content himself with your capture and the seizing of your ship; he also wanted a mass hanging of all persons associated with pirates, just like his son did years ago. For this, he forced me to abuse of my authority to arrest innocent persons, including women and children; he also corrupted Governor Laverty and he blackmailed Judge Carr, so they would do his biddings. But I knew rumours about this mass hanging would inevitably reach London, and some Crown's representatives would come over to Jamaica and investigate about it. As if British citizens could be hanged without a trial and their executioners get away with it! And then, what would happen? Friends and relatives of the executed would tell all about my blatant abuse of power and I would become a wanted man, doomed to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I don't want this! I don't want to flee on the seas for the rest of my life!"

Jack looked at Beckett and at Chambers, back and forth, and then he snickered loudly.

"It sounds like your conspiracy has hit a reef, gentlemen! You got tricked by the low tide; there is no more water under your keel!"

"CHAMBERS, YOU TRAITOR!" yelled Beckett Senior as much as the pressing sword on his throat would allow him to do. "Weakling, cowardly traitor, I'll skin you alive!"

"Shut up, you imbecile!" shot the Commander back. "You have been nothing but a bag of bricks tied to my neck since the first day I've agreed to talk with you! You've never had the intention to keep your promises, anyway, so why should I be loyal to you?"

"I've signed the document granting you a captaincy!"

"And you would have torn it to shreds as soon as we would have returned to Port Royal, you double-crosser. A mean old cuss like you must have some blackmailing matters locked up in a safe, inside your grand mansion. I am not as dumb as you think: I know you would have me locked up in prison as soon as I would have become useless to you!"

"I can sympathise with this," interfered Jack. "Being fed and sheltered at the Government's expanses isn't something that I fancy too much, either: the food is simply dreadful!"

"GODDAMN YOU TO HELL, CHAMBERS!" cursed Beckett. "You have doomed us all with your clumsiness, you mangled mongrel. Sparrow is going to kill the both of us now!"

"Says who?" asked another voice, and Captain Sparrow gulped loudly as he saw Lieutenant Charon, dripping wet and immobile under the downpour, pointing his volley gun right at Jack's heart.

The silver-tongued pirate found himself in quite a dilemma: moving would allow either Beckett Senior or Chambers to strike him… but staying immobile made him a sitting duck for Charon's seven-barrelled firearm!

"Ahem… parlay?" asked Jack tentatively.

* * *

_Inside the _Black Pearl II_'s Great Cabin…_

"Jack! Oh no!" exclaimed Will.

His friend was right in a middle of a standoff and the other pirates didn't seem to be aware of their Captain's predicament. Even Wang Tao was too busy battling Carl-Hans to interfere in Jack's favor, whereas the Chinese spy's skills would have been pretty handy in this situation. Worse of all, the _Black Pearl II_ was literally jumping up and down on the waves, meaning the ship desperately needed guidance to survive the storm. Otherwise, it would break in two and everyone aboard would drown, giving the young Turner some more souls to ferry to the Other Side.

Will's chivalrous nature was revolted at the idea the people he had worked hard to free from the pontoon would die at reaching distance of liberty. His eyes hardened as he took his decision; he knew there was a risk of endangering his future with Elizabeth and their child, but Will simply couldn't stay inside the Great Cabin and watch his friend being slaughtered.

"Son?" asked Bootstrap worriedly.

The elder Turner's voice snapped the young man out of his reverie. He looked at Bill's love-filled blue gaze, and then he said with a smile:

"I love you, Papa."

Will closed his eyes… and vanished.

"NO!!!" yelled Bootstrap, but it was too late: his son had used his "transportation" ability to leave the Great Cabin.

Bootstrap rushed to the door and savagely turned the key in its lock to get outside; he had every intention of the world to bring Will back to the Great Cabin by the scuff of the neck, along with a good lecture about recklessly endangering his soul out of loyalty towards the weirdest pirate of the Caribbean! But the key wouldn't bulge from its position inside the locking mechanism; Bill tried to turn it once, twice, thrice, and still the sliding bolt wouldn't move.

"Oh, God…" whispered the burly-shaped man. He tried to shake the key in the warded lock but it did nothing: the mechanism got somehow jammed. Bill Turner was trapped inside the Great Cabin!

"No! That won't do it!" howled the former pirate. Steeling all his might, he launched himself at the door, like a battering ram attacking a fortress' gate during the medieval era.

* * *

_On the _Black Pearl II'_s main deck…_

A fist coming from nowhere smashed itself right in Charon's jaw, and the Lieutenant almost fell on the deck's planks under the impact. His hands tightened on the volley gun in a desperate grip, as he understood quickly he was in trouble and his weapon was his only chance of survival.

Jack, Chambers and Beckett gasped in surprise as they witnessed again Will suddenly "materializing" in front of their eyes; but this time, the young man was fist-fighting with Charon. The young Turner couldn't use deadly weapons such as swords or blunderbusses to defend his friend, but years with his father had trained him well in the art of hand-to-hand combat and the only way to get Jack out of this mess was to overpower Charon as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, and in spite of his _"Cold fish" _nickname, the detestable and obsequious Lieutenant was neither a coward nor an idiot. Will's sudden apparition would have scared tougher men out of their wits – in fact, a few Hessian mercenaries had dropped their weapons out of surprise, and some of Jack's men had seized the opportunity to knock them down – but Charon hadn't had in mind to relinquish his volley gun to the supernatural young captain. He fought back, trying to hit Will with his gun's butt and quickly the two men were engaged in a struggle for the possession of Charon's secret weapon.

Jack suddenly heard pounding noises inside the Great Cabin, and it didn't take long for the clever pirate to understand his former shipmate was breaking his private quarters' door open. Although a part of him resented the partial destruction of his property, he was also aware that his cabin's lock had been showing signs of rusting recently… and apparently, it had chosen the worst time to jam. Considering Bill's protective love for his son and the fact that William had "appeared" on the main deck in spite of his previous agreement to stay away from the fight, Jack's ultra-sharp brains led him to an obvious conclusion…

… _Will had come to his rescue, once more._

"Darn it, kid, can't you stay still for a minute?" grumbled Jack, both annoyed and grateful by Will's intervention. "Younger brothers can be a handful, at times!"

"What did you say?" croaked Beckett Senior, his throat getting bruised by the added pressure coming from the sword's point.

"Never mind! What you don't know can't kill you!" said Jack, his head turning back and forth to address his enemies.

"Sparrow, give me back my gun. Let me kill Beckett! All right then, if you don't trust me," added Chambers after Jack had laughed out loud in derision, "just kill him and we'll be rid of this piece of trash. He has made my life a living Hell. He wants your head displayed on a silver platter. Shoot him and do us both a favor!"

"My worldwide reputation includes a lack of enthusiasm about personal hygiene; consequently, you will have to wash your dirty laundry yourself, Chambers!" answered Jack, still aiming the flintlock pistol at the Commander. "As soon as my powerful friend here is done dealing with the walking _sushi_, I will gladly send the three of you to Port Royal and you will have enough time to settle your accounts while breaking your backs on a longboat's oars. And that's more than you deserve, you hogs!"

A loud noise was heard from inside the Great Cabin and one of the wooden planks composing the door snapped in two. More poundings followed, and the bloodied fist of Bootstrap Bill appeared through the hole. It would take a couple of minutes before the elder Turner would step out of the Captain's quarters to help his son, who was still fighting Charon to make him drop the volley gun. But the Lieutenant had an octopus-like grip!

Jack looked around at the sound of a Chinese' war cry, and he smiled: Wang Tao had vanquished the mercenaries' leader by driving two of his daggers into both Carl-Hans' palms! The tall man howled in pain, as the blades had cut neatly through muscles to sever the ulnar nerves: his large sword, which had caused so many damages through the crowd of pirates and escapees, fell on the main deck with a loud metallic clang, sounding the knell of the mercenaries' association with Beckett Senior.

At the sound, the remaining mercenaries looked up and saw their distressed commander staring at his useless hands while yelling: "_Ergeben Sie sich!_ (Give up the fight)". The Hessians looked at each other and then, one by one, they dropped their weapons to the ground to raise their arms. Pintel and Ragetti immediately collected the discarded firearms while Wang Tao explained in lengthy details what exactly would happen to the mercenaries if they didn't put their hands behind their heads and kneel on the _Black Pearl II_'s deck at once. Carl-Hans translated the spy's orders between two moans of pain, cradling his injured hands, and the foreign fighters obeyed without uttering a word.

The sight of the Hessians surrendering to Jack's men was enough to drive Beckett Senior off the edge. In spite of the sword pressing against his throat, he started yelling:

"Carl-Hans, you're nothing but a bastard! Traitor, fool, incapable, I'll have you hanged for your cowardice! I'll tear you from limb to limb! I'm gonna mangle you, annihilate you! I'll…"

"Shut up! I'm the one doing the talking, here!" said Jack just before ending the litany of threats by hitting his sword's pommel on the spiteful gentleman's temple. Beckett groaned and fell over, smacking his large bottom on the _Pearl_'s deck, his indignation dying on his lips.

"Now go join your German recruits, Chambers, and no nonsense or I will use this fire-powered, argument-prone device on your comely self, savvy?" added Jack with a ferocious grin, and the Commander obeyed swiftly: he could recognize a lost cause when he saw it and his former employer certainly wasn't worth receiving a pistol's ball!

Beckett was knocked-out; the Hessians were neutralized, under the close surveillance of Wang Tao, Marty, Cotton and a few former pontoon prisoners; and Chambers was out of the game, shaking in fear about what was going to happen to him next. But there was still the matter of Charon…

Jack looked up and saw Will banging his knee against the Lieutenant's thigh; Charon yelped in pain as cramps seized him, but he still wouldn't release his grip on his dangerous weapon. In spite of Will's punches on his nose and jaw, the ex-officer in charge of the _Justice_ simply couldn't let go of his volley gun. He was too full of hate and too obsessed in killing the fake "Lord Burlington" to let go of his unique chance to avenge his pride, even though the Hessians' boarding party had been vanquished and Beckett Senior was down for the count.

Captain Sparrow raised his pistol, aimed it at the revengeful Lieutenant and yelled:

"Move, Will, I have him! Get out of the way, whelp!"

Will didn't hear his friend: he and Charon were locked in a desperate struggle to gain possession of the monstrous volley gun. At the same moment, the remnants of the Great Cabin's door were smashed into bits and Bill emerged from Jack's quarters, dishevelled and furious. The elder Turner suddenly paled at the sight of his son engaged in a combat with a Royal Navy officer, trying to snatch an oversized firearm from his opponent's hands. Bill's paternal instincts kicked in and he yelled:

"WILL! Hang on, my love, I'm coming!"

But Bootstrap's call backfired badly: distracted by his father's voice, Will turned his head in the direction of the Great Cabin and Lieutenant Charon took advantage of his adversary's distraction to yank fiercely at the volley gun trapped between the two men.

At the same moment, violent gushes of wind made the _Black Pearl II_ yaw abruptly: Bill lost his footing and his head collided with the broken cabin's door, Jack almost toppled over Beckett's prone body and Will lost his grip on Charon's gun. As a result, the Lieutenant brutally hit the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ in the stomach with the rifle's butt.

Temporarily breathless, Will stumbled and he was pushed backwards. The momentum made him run into Jack, who grimaced in pain just before dropping Chambers' pistol on the floor.

"Bugger!" whispered Jack at the loss. The collision's impact had torn open the wounds on his forearms and he wasn't sure he could efficiently wield a sword much longer.

Charon laughed maniacally: Turner didn't have any weapon and Sparrow only had a sword, they wouldn't be able to defend themselves from his wonderful volley gun. The Lieutenant and his co-conspirators may have lost the game, but at least they would go to Hell in company of their enemies!

"Get ready to die, Turner!" said the Lieutenant while aiming the seven-barrelled firearm in Jack and Will's direction. "You are going to pay for your deceptions. You should have known better than helping this ridiculous, feeble, featherless jailbird…"

"Who do you call a featherless jailbird?" protested an outraged Jack. "What an insult! Me and Will are birds of a feather, we flock together!"

"Good-bye Turner," finished Charon, ignoring the interruption. "You should have learnt your proper place!"

Will shook his head to regain his senses, and then he jumped right in front of Sparrow to stand between his friend and Charon.

"My place is between you and Jack," said the young man firmly.

The scruffiest pirate of the Caribbean felt an icy fist closing on his heart at those words; Will had said those words before…

… _The day when the young man had saved Jack from the gallows and he had shielded him from Commodore Norrington's sword…_

"What are you doing, whelp?" whispered Jack.

Charon had a nasty smile.

"As you wish, Turner!"

He fired the seven-barrelled gun.

Will's torso got blown to pieces in an explosion of blood.

TBC…


	22. No, not him

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To ABC: thank you for correcting the German expression. I have sought for a translation on and this service isn't always accurate.

- This chapter contains references to one of my stories, _"A cry in the darkness"_.

- Some details may not be suitable for sensitive readers.

- The Qin Dynasty reigned in China from 221 B.C. to 206 B.C..

* * *

**Chapter 2****2: No, not him**

_On the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

Captain Jack Sparrow stood as still as a statue, mindless of the fresh blood and gore splattered all over his face; the human elements were getting mixed with raindrops and they were drawing dark patterns on the pirate's cheeks and throat, before sliding down his skin to maculate the front of his white shirt. His obsidian-colored eyes were huge, his mouth was gaping like a landed fish and his quicksilver brains had morphed into a huge chunk of ice.

Only a demented mantra kept on turning through Jack's mind like a steering wheel out of control: "_No, not him"._

It had been the thought that had flashed inside his head after he had witnessed Will Turner being grievously wounded at the hands of Davy Jones.

_No, not him._

And now those three words, written with incandescent letters, were burning inside his skull with the force of the Greek fire ruthlessly destroying the _Victory_.

_No, not him._

The deafening salvo from Lieutenant Charon's seven-barreled gun had made everyone on the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck jump in fright, pirates and German prisoners alike: it had sounded like a portable cannon firing at close range! All the heads had turned towards Jack, who was standing immobile under the rain, looking down at the body of…

_No, not him._

Marty the short pirate had paled considerably. Wang Tao looked both horrified and scandalized by Charon's action. Pintel grimaced in sorrow and Ragetti spontaneously grabbed the arm of his acolyte, seeking reassurance in a silent gesture. Cotton's parrot sadly shook its soaked wings, and then the bird slightly danced on its master's shoulder, muttering: _"We've run aground, mates!"_. Even Commander Chambers could feel his stomach filling up with acid again, as he somberly concluded this was the end: Sparrow would order the execution of all the prisoners as retaliation of…

_No, not him._

Charon was still holding his empty volley gun; the seven barrels were fuming from their simultaneous discharge and the foul-smelling gunpowder smoke would have made any normal wielder cough and cry for the next ten minutes. But the Lieutenant was smiling from ear to ear, making him look like a maniac clad in a Royal Marine uniform. He was indifferent to his own perilous situation: vengeance was his! It didn't matter to him that he was surrounded by outlaws, aboard a pirate ship sailing perilously in a tempest. He had managed to punish the culprit who had betrayed him, the one responsible of Sparrow's escape, of…

_No, not him._

Cuthbert Beckett was recovering from the blow to his head, courtesy of Jack's sword pommel, when the loud shooting of Charon's gun had made him open his eyes in a snap, just in time to see who the Lieutenant had gunned down. Beckett's rubicund face turned a deeper shade of red at the sight of the massacre: even if a part of him had rejoiced at the sight of one of his son's murderers receiving its rightful chastisement, he couldn't help but feel resentful. How come that cold fish had been granted his vengeance, instead of him? Beckett Senior had suffered a great loss while the Lieutenant only had his pride wounded in the pontoon's escape; and yet, Charon had managed to fell his enemy before Beckett! Wild with jealousy, the would-be noble glared at the Lieutenant, and then he looked at Sparrow's stunned expression and let out a cackling laugh: at least, the clownish pirate was speechless! He was standing stock still and fixing the corpse of…

_No, not him._

Bootstrap Bill Turner shook his head in an attempt to clear it of dizziness; a gush of wind had made him hit in full the broken Great Cabin's door, and the back of his skull was bearing a painful reminder of this incident. The tall man had seen colorful stars flashing before his closed eyes and then a violent explosion had rung out nearby, awakening the souvenirs of his experience as a pirate. Bill knew he didn't have the time to curse his inattentiveness which had made him loose his footing like a cabin boy on his first travel. He had more pressing matters at hand: whatever this explosion had been, it couldn't be good for his son! Bill's eyes focused gradually and he spotted firstly Jack frozen on the spot, staring at the body of…

_No, not him._

Bootstrap's blue eyes suddenly widened, and then he let out a cry of rage mixed with sobs: _**"WILL!!!"**_

Will Turner was lying on the main deck, spread out in a pool of his own blood. The seven bullets shot by the volley gun had hit him right in the torso and the projectiles had torn open his chest, leaving huge gaping wounds that revealed the young man's internal organs. His beautiful "borrowed" costume was ruined and the violence of the deflagration had disarticulated his arms and his legs, making the limbs rest at odd angles. Only Will's face had remained intact, but his skin was whiter than snow and his eyes were closed. He didn't appear to be breathing and long locks of his dark hair had remained plastered on his brow. The pouring rain was washing away the blood flooding from his mangled body to make it disappear through the interstices between the deck's planks.

And Captain Jack Sparrow had his eyes fixed on the unmoving body of his friend.

_No, not him__._

"WILL! OH GOD, NO! MY LOVE, MY SON!" roared Bootstrap Bill. He clumsily scrambled all the way from the Great Cabin to reach the spot where Will lay. Then he fell on down on his knees and gathered the inert body of his son in his arms, his tears mixing with the rain…

"Will, my love! Oh my little boy, someone has hurt my little boy. Tell me you're going to be all right! Oh God, please help him! You can't die, Will, open your eyes. I love you, you can't be gone! Oh no, no! Not my son, not him!"

_No, not him._

Bootstrap felt like his heart would break into a million tiny shards on the _Black Pearl_ _II_'s deck; the sight of his William bleeding from a thousand terrible wounds had drove him over the brink of madness, awakening the awful memories of his child being wounded by Davy Jones or tortured by Red Hand Pete, and it was blinding the older man to the fact that Will was bestowed with supernatural powers. His anguish was too great, his pain too overwhelming, to remember that fact and Bill Turner was crying as he cradled his insensate son, ignoring the blood maculating his clothes or the downpour falling on him; nothing mattered to him except for the precious being lying wounded in his arms.

"Will, please, wake up! Listen to my heart and please tell me you are going to heal. Love of my life, please wake up. You can do this. Open your eyes and say _"Papa"_, I beg of you. They hurt you, the bastards! They'll pay dearly for this, I swear to you. But my baby, you can overcome this. Listen to my heart, it will help you. Will, open your eyes, my darling; I'm going insane!"

_No, not him._

But in spite of Bill's supplications, the younger Turner didn't move an inch. A thunderbolt suddenly crashed into the sea, nearby the pirate ship, followed by a sky-shattering sound; the white light illuminated Will's handsome features and Bootstrap suddenly gasped in horror as he saw his son's eyelids were open, showing the whites of his eyes. An endless flow of blood kept on pouring from his wounds and he looked like he had been definitively vanquished by Charon's oversized firearm.

It couldn't be. William couldn't be killed; he was the Master of the Sea, the Soul Guide, a praised hero, his beloved shining child…. He couldn't be killed by a volley gun. His _**angel**_ couldn't be dead!

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" roared Bill Turner to the dark sky, his face ravaged by sorrow, his eyes wildly seeking for a sign behind the lead-colored clouds. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! WILL, MY LOVE, WAKE UP! Will…."

His voice broke down and Bill busted into tears, burying his face in the nook of Will's neck. His tall frame was shaken with sobs and pain-filled wails were escaping from his lips. The desperate father wept while holding Will's head against his chest in an iron-like embrace; his pain was making him deaf and dumb to reason, unable to hope that his son's powers could actually save him. Will had been hacked to pieces by Charon's seven-barreled gun and it seems that this time, he wouldn't be able to recover from the shot. Through the curtains of his tears, Bill couldn't see Jack's silhouette towering over the Turners, his face stone-like with shock.

_No, not him__._

A nerve-wrecking laughter was heard over the tempest's booms, and finally Jack blinked before slowly turning his head in the direction of the incongruous sound. His movements were so sluggish one could hardly recognize the cleverest pirate of the Caribbean, who had escaped from his various enemies like quicksilver! His stupendous brains were still reeling with the three-word mantra but Jack managed to find the culprit responsible for laughing at Will's wounding: Cuthbert Beckett.

"One murderer down, one more to go, Sparrow! Your friend must be pleading his cause to the Devil by now, and by no doubts he will be sentenced to eternal torments. You may have won the battle, but I am happy to have caused you distress, even if that buddy of yours deserved a more spectacular death. I would have loved to see you both swinging at the end of a hangman's rope! Now do whatever you want to do, Sparrow, but it won't bring you back your friend. Charon, I have to congratulate you: your intervention has finally managed to harm our enemy; I was seriously beginning to doubt your ability to subdue a pirate, but it seems that you have proven me wrong and that is a rare feat, indeed!"

"Thank you, Milord. No one makes a fool out of me and gets away with it!" answered the Lieutenant with an icicle smile, but inwardly he wondered why that red clown couldn't have shut his mouth. He has ruined his moment of glory! It had been so enjoyable to see Turner gutted out… and as a bonus, his father had been present at the scene! The cries of the tall, older man were sweet music to Charon's ears, just like the pleadings of the wrongly convicted prisoners aboard the pontoon. And Beckett had chosen that precise moment to babble, the damn fool!

But the gentleman's tirade backfired dangerously as the twang tone of his voice shook Jack's crewmembers out of their horrified stupefaction. In a spontaneous movement, the pirates turned hateful glances at Beckett Senior and Charon, who started to feel very ill at ease. The Lieutenant's volley gun was empty and even if he swung it through the crowd like a bludgeon, his resistance wouldn't last very long against determined outlaws. Beckett, for all his arrogance, was beginning to see the limits of his leadership: the German mercenaries had capitulated and Charon was weaponless, so how in the world was he going to get out of this mess alive?

Jack was still standing under the rain and he couldn't take his eyes off Bootstrap Bill holding his wounded son, softly pleading him to come back to life. Hallucinations seized Captain Sparrow as this pitiful sight awakened his memories of the maelstrom battle. By an awful coincidence, the recent events bore painful similarities with Davy Jones' last fight: _a violent storm… an imperiled ship… his little brother lying in a pool of blood… Bootstrap crying… a triumphant enemy laughing…_

In his mind, those images were getting mixed with the horrible souvenir of Will being mortally wounded by the former Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, and Beckett's snickering face got superposed with Davy Jones', just like when the oil colors of a portrait were partially scratched off a canvas to reveal another face painted beneath. This trauma from the past was making Jack seeing strange things: tentacles were growing on Beckett Senior's chin, a lobster's claw was replacing the right hand which had bore such a magnificent aquamarine, and even the eye color of his nemesis were changing from disdainful blue to hate-filled cerulean…

And then, the three words flashed in Jack's mind again, this time with the blinding light of an inferno: _No, not him__!_

"_**JO**__**OOOOOOOONES!!!"**_ roared Captain Sparrow, drawing out his sword and swinging it at Beckett Senior.

The father of the deceased East India Trading Company leader got scared by Jack's heart cry and he jumped backward, nearly failing in avoiding the blade aimed at his stomach. Sparrow's face was rigid with rage, his comic smile was vanished from his lips and his eyes were darker than a Hell's pit. Jack had changed from a wounded, slender pirate who had been locked up in a narrow crate for too long into a revengeful fighter who would stop for nothing until he had killed his enemy. For the first time of his life Beckett understood he had gone too far… and much too late.

"_**JOOOOOONES!**__** No, not him!"**_ yelled Jack again. His anger had decupled his strength and his sword relentlessly slashed at anything that stood on his way to skewer his enemy, may it be planks, ropes or shredded canvases.

"Charon, help! Help me!" squealed Beckett Senior, making him sounding like a trot-on oversized rat. "Sparrow had gone bonkers! Help!"

Jack kept on swinging his sword, his beads and dreadlocks flying everywhere, paying no heed to the scarlet man's supplications. The Lieutenant didn't hesitate a second: he had also witnessed Jack's fury and he knew he had to act quickly. If he felled Sparrow, the pirates would be temporarily leaderless and, in the confusion, he would have a chance to jump into the sea and swim all his way back to Port Royal, leaving all unwanted witnesses aboard the _Black Pearl II_ and none would be the wiser. Beckett and Chambers could be flayed alive by the outlaws for all he cared, as long as it gave him enough time to flee!

Charon grabbed his empty volley gun by its still-hot seven barrels and, paying no heed to the burning sensation in his hands, he lifted it like a club; but before he could take a step towards Jack, a small man jumped right at him!

"You sacrilegious slug!" hissed Wang Tao, his eyes blazing in barely-contained anger. "You have dared to hurt the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor? You'll pay for this with your pitiable life!"

"Get out of my way, you little twerp!" screamed the Lieutenant, furious at this interference. He swung the heavy gun at the Chinaman: Wang Tao easily dodged the blow but then he lost his balance from the ship's wild sailing and he fell on the deck's planks, right at Charon's feet.

Wrongly thinking he was having the upper hand the Lieutenant lifted his weapon above his head, with the intention of crashing it forcefully on his opponent's head. Alas for the Royal Marine officer, Wang Tao was a master spy and the best assassin of the Red Dragon Clan, pirate family from generation to generation since the Qin Dynasty: he certainly wasn't the kind to be bested by a walking piece of cold fish!

The former commander of the _Justice_ opened wide his mouth to yell out in victory, but something whizzed through the air and only a gurgle managed to escape from his throat. Faster than lightning, Wang Tao had thrown one of his thin daggers and the blade had stuck itself into Charon's brains by piercing through his soft palate; only the haft remained visible, making the Lieutenant look as if he was sticking out of his lips a tongue made of shiny metal.

Charon stared cross-eyed at the dagger's haft, unable to comprehend what had happened. Then, a gush of blood escaped from his mouth as his brains surrendered to eternal darkness. The volley gun escaped from his lifeless hands, falling on the soaked deck again but completely harmless this time. With a last hiccup Charon crumpled on the planks, from where he remained immobile.

The impassible Wang Tao bent over and retrieved his dagger protuberating from the dead Lieutenant's mouth, and wiped the blade clean with a silken handkerchief he had in his pocket. The German prisoners had jumped in surprise at Charon's sudden demise, but a few harsh words from Pintel and Ragetti quieted down them promptly. Chambers started to shake at this impressive display of assassination, and he rued the day he had ever listened to Cuthbert Beckett.

Wang Tao muttered through his clenched jaw: "I regret to have granted you a swift death, you fly-infested piece of garbage. To think you had dared shooting at Lord Captain Turner with your disgraceful weapon! And you actually had the nerve to rejoice at his Honorable First Officer's sorrow! I hope Zhu Rong, god of fire, will char your miserable remains!"

A yell distracted the Chinese spy for cursing the dead man any longer: it was Jack, still mad of rage, lashing out at Beckett and Chambers' ex-employer had grabbed a discarded cutlass to defend himself, but apparently he wasn't very experienced in sword-fighting: he could only parry Jack's strikes and each time the two blades collided, a burst of sparks flew from the point of contact.

"**Not him! Not him! Jones, you bastard! Trying to kill my brother, do you?**" yelled Jack, his eyes still haunted by ghosts from his past.

"Stop that madness! I am not Jones!" squealed his opponent, who was rapidly loosing ground from the terrible assault. Never, in his born days, would he have thought Sparrow had so much strength in him! The pirate didn't seem to feel the wounds he had received from the riding crop, or to be weakened by days of food and sleep deprivation: he looked like he had been possessed by a demon!

Cuthbert Beckett moaned in fright; he hadn't dueled in years, since sending other people to their dooms while remaining in the shadows had been his lifelong strategy. Cutler had chosen the option of dirtying his hands – to make sure things were properly done, he used to say – but his father had always thought using terrorized, well-paid minions was the best plan. Beckett Senior had always prided himself as a great puppeteer and it had worked to the perfection for the fifty-six years of his life, until his path had crossed with Captain Jack Sparrow.

With a cry of fear that sounded like a pitiful whine, the gentleman ran to the riggings and started climbing them at all speed in an attempt to put some distance between him and the enraged Jack, even though the _Black Pearl II_'s harsh sailing was making the ascension very perilous.

"Don't try to follow me, Sparrow, if you value your life!" said a frightened Beckett, utterly failing to sound menacing.

But Jack wasn't in the right state of mind to care about his safety. He yelled at the top of his lungs: **"I am Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything! Just you wait!"**, and then he started climbing the riggings as well, holding his sword between his teeth in a true image of piracy.

"Captain, come back!" exclaimed Pintel. All the crewmembers watched in horror their commander running after his personal enemy, forgetting to give orders about the ship.

Marty ran towards the Chinese spy/executioner; the _Black Pearl II_ didn't have an official First Mate, but the short-legged pirate knew Wang Tao was a good adviser and the crew needed instructions if they were to survive this storm.

"Mister Wang Tao, what we ought to do?"

"Would you consider me an impertinent if I articulated a suggestion?"

"Oh no, not at all!"

"Very well, Little Big Man. Our vessel's safety should be our first priority as Dian Mu, Mother of Lightning and Feng Po Po, Madame Wind, are overly enthusiastic about using their powers tonight. Therefore, the Silent One's presence at the wheel is necessary to prevent our proud ship from heeling over. Please ask the Argument-prone Pair to tie up our foreign prisoners at the mainmast, since we can't waste time locking them in the brig – besides, they may try to grab a woman or a child hostage on the way to the cells. The recently-freed men can gather the weapons and clean up the main deck from debris that might become harmful to our persons during a storm. Also, if you could use your sailing experience to give directions to the Silent One, to make us leave those tormented waters as soon as possible… anywhere but in Port Royal, of course!"

"All right, it sounds like a plan. I'll give out the orders immediately. But what are we going to do about the Captain?"

Wang Tao looked upwards, and sighed: "I'm afraid we will have to wait until our rightful commander, Lord Captain Sparrow, finishes his business with the pedantic, pseudo-noble with terrible clothing tastes."

"What? But Jack could get killed!" protested Marty. "If he wanders in the riggings by this weather, he could loose his footing in a snap and fall to his death… his gait isn't too secure by dead calm, already!"

"That is correct, Little Big Man. Alas, it seems that Lord Captain Sparrow had been driven to blinding fury by the late Lieutenant Charon's action, and only the demise of his pretentious enemy could calm him down. Besides, who would be able to reach our ship's highest points in this pitch-black night where Lei Gong, god of thunder, rules, to make Lord Captain Sparrow listen to reason?"

Marty shook his bald head: the weather was indeed terrible; no sailor would be suicidal enough to volunteer climbing up the masts in these conditions. It was the reason why a good Captain would ask his topmen to secure the sails before sailing through a tempest, to avoid mortal accidents. Wang Tao had learned since infancy to mind his surroundings, and he was aware that trying to climb rope ladders during a violent tempest could only spell his death. But Jack couldn't be left alone fighting Beckett Senior in the yard-arms!

"Can no one bring Captain Jack down?" asked Marty.

"None of us, I am afraid," sighed Wang Tao, and then his eyes narrowed. "Apart from…"

"From…?" prompted the short pirate.

"…. Lord Captain Turner," finished the Chinaman.

The two men turned their gazes in the direction of Bootstrap Bill, who was holding Will's body in his arms, weeping softly. The youngster's head was pressed against his father's breast and he was still in such a terrible, heart-wrenching state that Marty's blossoming hope got instantly crushed. He had heard of the powers Will had acquired with his forced captaincy years ago, but he doubted they would be enough to cure the lad. Who could survive after being blown to pieces by cannon, even a seven-barreled portable one? Heavens knew how many times Marty had seen this kind of death during his pirating career…

Bill kept on cradling his son, murmuring soft reassurances through his sobs. He had managed to calm down the beatings of his heart by a superhuman effort, as he hoped William would hear _"The secret"_ and it would help him to regain consciousness. But the howling of the winds, the loud groans of the _Black Pearl II_ fighting against the raging sea and the deafening cracks from the thunder were making his task difficult. If he had dared, the elder Turner would have carried Will to let him rest on Jack's bed inside the Great Cabin, but the young man's body was so torn and bloodied that Bill didn't have the courage to move a muscle. Trying to ignore the awful sensation of being strangled by grief, Bootstrap held Will's head against his broad chest, his lips moving in a silent prayer…

…Then…

Bill blinked, having a hard time to believe his own eyes. For a moment he thought he was having a bad case of hallucinations, like Jack had a moment ago, making him confuse Beckett Senior with Davy Jones.

… And yet…

Had he dreamed, or did Will have moved his fingers?

TBC…


	23. Important author's note

My dear readers and reviewers,

I would like to thank you all for the enthusiasm you have been showing about _"Oceano Nox"_: it is a thrill to know this story is appreciated around the world, and you have been assiduously following each week the adventures of the most loved pirates of the Caribbean. It is certainly a great incentive to improve my writing skills in English!

I have to put this story on hold, on reason of… a vacation! I truly wanted to post a new chapter this week, but I got caught up with the bag-packing frenzy so I hope you won't mind.

This story is on hold until around August 22nd, but **it won't be abandoned**. I know how frustrating it is for fan-fiction readers to enjoy a story and then find out it has been given up on for years.

So I wish you the best of holidays, plenty of fun, sun and laughter, and be assured the baddie of _"Oceano Nox"_ will meet a frightful doom! ;-)

**HAPPY SUMMER!**

Best regards,

Rose de Sharon


	24. Crying in the rain

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Hi, I'm back! The summer vacation has been fabulous and I hope you've had a great time, too.

- To Fan: thank you very much for your funny message!

- To Smithy: what's up, Doc? ;-)

- The title comes from the 1990 song from Norwegian pop group A-ha.

- The scene of Will's "baptism" is inspired from the 1994 movie _The Shawshank Redemption_.

- "_Diyu"_ is the realm of the dead, or "hell" in Chinese mythology (from Wikipedia).

* * *

**Chapter 2****3: Crying in the rain**

_On the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

Bill Turner almost jumped out of his skin. William's hand had moved!

The gesture had been almost imperceptible through the pitching and rolling of the _Black Pearl II_'s fight against the tempest, but the ex-pirate trusted his eyes. He had been desperately seeking proofs of life in his son that he wouldn't have confused a deliberate movement with a coincidence – and Bill also knew, deep down, that he hadn't been mistaken by wishful thinking, either.

Will _had_ moved, he was sure of this. A little tremor of life… Could it mean that his boy was going to survive the discharging of Charon's volley gun?

Bill gently held his son in the cradle of his arms. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the other pirates shaking their heads sadly in his direction, while the German mercenaries were looking morosely at the scene, more concerned by own skins. Commander Chambers was muttering under his breath like a lunatic and there was no sign of Jack. Lost in his grief, Bill had missed his friend's swordfight with Beckett Senior and the subsequent flight of the hated would-be lord in the ship's riggings, followed by a hallucinating Captain Sparrow. But he noted that the crewmembers were giving him some space while working hard to keep their vessel afloat and it suited the older man perfectly. If what he was hoping for **was** truly happening, he didn't want anybody around to witness it.

This very thought blossomed in Bill's heart, making the organ beat quicker and he pressed his beloved child's head against his chest. _Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, th-thump…_ _"The secret"_, this pact of love between the Turners father and son, had proved its magic a thousand times in the past. Could it help Will once more?

Tears gathered in Bill's cerulean eyes. _Please, let it be so…_

He didn't have the courage to raise his head to look at the state of his son's horrific injuries; so he kept his head low, his face softly resting against William's handsome features. However, something caught Bill's attention: the _Pearl_'s main deck had been previously covered with blood pouring from Will's body in spite of the heavy rain. But somehow the situation had changed, as the cloudbursts were still washing the deck... and this time, the blood flow seemed to have stopped. The planks were actually being cleaned!

Suddenly, a start shook Will's body from head to toes.

"Son?" whispered Bootstrap Bill.

He would have shouted his child's name out loud but his voice was hoarse from emotion, so the only thing that came out of his throat was a feeble croak. However, Bill did feel a soft breath against his cheek and it made him let out another strangled noise: Will had sighed. Then, the young man's hand moved again, his fingernails scrapping against the main deck's planks, and the elder Turner raised his head to look at his son's face while his heart was ripen apart between hope and fear.

"Little One?" asked Bill again, succeeding in talking a bit louder this time but Will's eyes remained closed. The young man still felt heavy and boneless in his father's embrace but the ex-pirate refused to surrender to desperation, not after having felt those tiny sparks of life. Something – a hunch - decided Bootstrap to take a look at his son's body but the magnificent costume "borrowed" from Huang Ming the tailor, ruined by the deflagration, prevented him to do so. With trembling fingers, the older man removed scraps of blue-and-gold cloth and white satin to check on the grievous wounds…

At the same moment, a flash of lighting arced in the stormy sky, and the elder Turner gasped in relief. With the shredded linen out of the way and under the harsh light, Will's body was revealed to be… _**healing at an incredible speed!**_

Bill could hardly dare to breathe. The injuries caused by the monstrous gun were disappearing, one after another. His William was healing! His supernatural powers were restoring his body!

The gaping wounds in Will's torso were closing as quickly as seawater behind the strike of a blade, hiding the inner organs which had been cruelly exposed by Lieutenant Charon's revenge. The arms and legs were straightening up after the articulations had repaired out of their own accord. The numerous cuts and scratches were simply vanishing in the blink of an eye. The rain kept on falling on the young man, washing away the blood to reveal flawless, tanned skin. The only remaining scar was the one crossing Will's left breast. The young man moaned softly and then he sighed again as his ribs were clicking back into place, relieving the pressure on his lungs and easing his breathing.

With barely-suppressed growls escaping from his clenched teeth, Bootstrap brushed back the soaked dark hair from his son's face and took a quick look around: nobody had noticed Will's miraculous healing so far. In the frenzy reigning on the _Pearl_, the pirates could only see the sad, lonely silhouette of the elder Turner kneeling on the deck and holding his son; all of them were too busy to pay him the slightest attention…

But Sparrow was nowhere to be seen and this was getting worrisome. Bill knew Jack would be very concerned – judging from his stunned expression earlier – so he had expected him to remain close to the Turners. But the silver-tongued pirate was neither on deck nor at the helm. In fact, it was the mute guy who was at the wheel and the _Black Pearl II_'s cruising seemed to be getting a bit smoother. So where in the world was Jack?

Will suddenly opened his eyes, and then he began to cough. Bill tightened his hold, not wanting his child to accidentally bang his head against the deck's planks while regaining consciousness. After a few minutes, the young man's vision cleared and the first thing he saw was his father's remarkable clear blue eyes, staring right at him.

"Papa…?"

"You're saved, my darling! Thanks goodness, you're saved!" Bill's words ended with a sob and he hugged his son close, kissing his brow and rocking him like an infant.

The elder Turner had witnessed this healing prodigy four years ago, after Will had been rescued from Red Hand Pete's slimy clutches. But this souvenir had been violently erased by the shock of seeing his son massacred by the bullets of the seven-barreled gun: a sight way too horrible for Bill's paternal love to bear and he had almost forgotten everything in his grief. Only a tiny part of his brains had remained calm enough to tell him what he had to do – hold Will, let him listen to his heart, and wait for his powers to kick in – but Bill had listened to this voice only by miracle.

Will had been forcibly separated from Elizabeth but his captaincy of the _Flying Dutchman _had saved his life many times; Bootstrap had gained mixed feelings from this situation over the years, as he didn't know anymore if he should feel grateful or resentful about it. But for the moment, he wouldn't have cared if Armageddon would happen in the next few minutes: his son was saved!

Warm tears escaped from the elder Turner's eyes to be instantly mixed with the rain falling on his face. Another person observing the scene wouldn't have seen the difference between the droplets, but Will had learned to know his father. Rising a shaky hand, he gently stroked Bill's face.

"Papa… Are you crying?" asked Will, his fingertips lightly resting on the features which looked so much like his owns'. "Please, don't… I'm all right…"

"Yes you are, Little One, and I should have known you would overcome these injuries, considering your healing powers but… I can't help myself. Oh God, Will… I saw you being blown to pieces and it was simply awful. How do you feel, son? Are you hurting anywhere?"

"I'm fine, Papa… Just tired… Guess being gunned down by a giant-sized weapon takes its toll on a man, eh?" said Will with a weak smile.

Bill gulped loudly and he shook his head to vainly chase the horrid images of Will lying in a pool of crimson on the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck. He appreciated the attempt at humor but it would take months before Bootstrap would be able to laugh again.

Will felt the unease and he kissed his father's face, tasting salty water that was coming not from the rain, but from the elder Turner's sorrow. The two men wrapped their arms around each other in an iron-like embrace, and for a few minutes they remained silent, content in their shared devoted affection.

Will was sorry to have abruptly left the Great Cabin and he murmured apologies in his father's ear, asking forgiveness for scaring him. Bill answered by hugging his child even closer, pardoning him for running off at Jack's rescue. Will was a hero, so he just couldn't stay behind while his loved ones were endangered. That was an absolute certainty!

Then, Bill partially released his bone-crushing hold - very reluctantly- and said: "Stay put, Little One. Give yourself some time to recover from that blast…"

"Papa… Where's Jack?"

"I don't know, son. After that man shot you, Jack just… stood still, like a statue, as if he couldn't believe what had happened. Then I remember hearing screams of rage, but I didn't look up to see who was yelling like this; I was too lost in grief to take any notice of what was going on…"

"I am so sorry."

"None of this is your fault, Will, even though I would have appreciated if another way to protect Jack had been at hand… but I guess you didn't have the time to make another plan, eh?"

Will nodded, and then he asked: "Please, Papa… Can you help me up?"

Bill considered his son long and hard: all the wounds had disappeared and colors were indeed back on the young man's face, but one could hardly say that receiving seven bullets in the torso was as harmless as being bothered by a fly.

"Are you sure, my love? You took a nasty shock..."

"Aye, I am. And I also want to know what Jack is up to, since I haven't been around lately to keep an eye on him."

"You're probably right," grumbled Bill, knowing all about Jack's history with trouble.

The elder Turner noted that the deflagration's violence had kicked one buckle-fastened shoe out of Will's feet and the white stockings were torn to shreds; so he wasted no time in pulling away the surviving shoe and freeing Will's calves from the miserable-looking silken rags: being sure-footed was a sailor's priority and his son couldn't walk around a ship's deck in a tempest with only one shoe on, not to mention the added risk of stepping on his stockings' remains and fall on his face!

Will thanked his father with a smile, and then Bill helped him to stand up. The young man felt dizzy at first, and without Bootstrap's firm grip on his arm he would probably have to sit down again. But after a few minutes, his head cleared and he felt rested, stronger than before. Will wasted no time in taking off the remnants of his "Lord Burlington" costume and, clad only with his olive green breeches, he sighed in contentment as the rain fell on his body. It felt like a rebirth and Will raised his arms to the sky in triumph, silently giving thanks for being granted again another chance in life. Thunder rumbled and lightning flooded the sky, but unlike with Davy Jones these tumultuous elements weren't the accomplices of a demon, but the celebrants of a hero.

"_God, he's beautiful__. And anyone who would deny he's an angel will answer to me!" _thought Bootstrap, marveling at the sight of his son being baptized by the Heavens. Will was glowing under the flashing lights and the rain cascaded on him like a shower of diamonds, illuminating his tall silhouette standing between sky and sea.

"Papa, why are you laughing?" asked Will, turning his head at the sound of Bill's soft laugh.

"Because seeing you is a joy, son."

These words earned the elder Turner a _"Special Smile"_ which he received straight to the heart, and then Will pushed away a lock of hair from his face, looking preoccupied again. His reasonable nature had made him realize quickly that the _Black Pearl II_ was sailing dangerously, Chambers and Beckett were to be done with and there was the matter of missing Jack. Their escape from Port Royal was far from finished!

Seizing Bill's hand in his own, Will walked towards the mainmast where the German mercenaries and Commander Chambers were tied to, under the close surveillance of Pintel, Ragetti and Marty, who were turning their backs on the young Turner. Ignoring the stupefied looks he was getting from the captured enemies, Will called out to the short-sized pirate:

"Marty?"

"Yeah, what do you want… OHMYGOSH! WILL?!!"

Marty's eyes went enormous as he saw the Captain of the_ Flying Dutchman_ calmly standing behind him, apparently unhurt from the terrible experience he had suffered from the seven-barreled gun. Following the exclamation, all heads turned towards the mainmast and a collective cry of surprise was heard across the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck. Pintel and Ragetti jumped about two feet in the air, making Ragetti's wooden eye to pop out of his right socket and Chambers let out a long, keening wail as if his personal demon had decided to torment him. Carl-Hans exclaimed _"Das ist unmöglich!_" (_"That's impossible!"_) and several of his men had their teeth shattering in fear. They had all seen Will's execution at the hands of the Lieutenant and by experience they knew that no one, absolutely no one, could survive receiving a hail of bullets shot at close range!

All the men were staring at the youngster with rounded eyes, except for Wang Tao who merely smiled before bowing low in front of Will.

"My humble person is overwhelmed with happiness to see you back amongst us and in an intact state, Lord Captain Turner. Praise Mazu, the sea goddess, for all eternity in gratitude for the gifts she had granted you as her protégé!"

"Thanks, Mister Wang Tao…"

"May all your enemies be condemned to the eighteen chambers of Diyu! I pray that Zhong Kui, vanquisher of evil beings, will cut them down to the tiniest pieces possible! And I hope that…"

"Please, Mister Wang Tao, could you tell me what happened?" interrupted Will.

"Ahem! Yes, my deepest apologies, Lord Captain Turner. Well, after that accursed Lieutenant has fired his dishonorable oversized weapon at you, Lord Captain Sparrow went… a bit wild and he abundantly cursed the Dragon-King; Then, he charged at him with his mighty sword held up in the air, with the intention to apply severe retribution for these wrongdoings. The Dragon-King tried to escape from our rightful commander's sense of justice like the abject coward he is, and he had the preposterous idea to save his scaled skin by climbing in the ship's riggings during a breaking storm; but, alas for him, Lord Captain Sparrow isn't a man to be discouraged by challenges so he followed suit, ignoring the potential dangers to his person."

"What? Do you mean to tell me that Jack is up there?" exclaimed Will, looking bewildered. "But he can fall to his death any moment!"

"That is correct, but I am embarrassed to report that Lord Captain Sparrow seemed to have lost his almost-right state of mind after he had seen you gunned down by the repugnant Lieutenant Charon."

"Where is that Lieutenant?" growled Bootstrap Bill, his blue eyes hardening like sapphires. "He will feel my hands on his scrawny neck!"

"I took the initiative to end his life, Honorable Lord First Officer of the Soul Vessel. He has paid the ultimate price for his total lack of respect towards the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor."

William saw the crumpled body of Lieutenant Charon, lying unmoving on the deck and he couldn't help but thinking about the dead man's soul he would have welcome aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ soon. Bill Turner's features hardened at the sight of the corpse, but he said nothing.

"Lord Captain Sparrow was so focused in pursuing the Dragon-King that he forgot to give his loyal crewmembers instructions about our vessel and the prisoners. So we have been trying to survive this dreadful weather while keeping an eye on the captured enemies, but we would be grateful if an accomplished Captain would guide us in leaving those waters which are a bit too turbulent for our tastes," concluded Wang Tao.

"Aye, Will," said Marty. "Cotton is at the wheel for the moment, but none of us are experienced enough to sail the _Black Pearl II_ out of this mess. If you or Bootstrap could take his place…"

At the same moment, Chambers – who had been staring at Will with goggling eyes – let out a shrilling scream of terror, making all the German mercenaries, the Turners and the Chinese spy/executioner turn their heads towards him in the same movement.

"No! No! Y-You are a-alive?" stuttered the disgraced Commander. "But… B-But you c-can't be alive! How c-can it be? H-How did y-y-you survive the b-blast?"

"Silence, you scum!" exclaimed Wang Tao.

"Yeah, you'd better shut yur yap-trap if yu know what's good for yu!" said Pintel. Ragetti was too busy to replace his wooden eye to bother maintaining discipline amongst the captives.

But Chambers didn't seem to hear; in fact, the recent events had been too much for him to bear and since his capture he had been doing nothing but muttering meaningless words, as if he were rehearsing his defense in front of a future court-martial. This had been a hellish night and Chambers' stress over his association with Beckett Senior had increased tenfold with Sparrow's vanishing from the pontoon like a ghost, the sky-breaking storm, the mysterious fire burning down the _Victory_ against all odds… and Turner who didn't have a mark or a scratch on his body after having being gunned down!

Terror and superstitious fears invaded Chambers' weak mind and he went ghastly pale, his heart drumming against his ribcage; how wrong he had been to think Sparrow were nothing but a common outlaw… the bird-named pirate had powerful friends and he must have concluded a pact with the Black Arts, just like Davy Jones did years ago, to have so much luck! The arrogant Cutler Beckett had wrongly thought he could seize this kind of power by blackmailing Jones, and it had spelled his doom. Chained and at Sparrow's mercy, the Commander would probably meet a grisly fate!

"I-It's imp-possible," stammered Chambers, his bulging eyes fixed on the young Captain. "None can s-survive this k-k-kind of wounds… unless you're a d-d-demon…"

"What did you say?" roared Bootstrap Bill.

"You dare to insult Lord Captain Turner? I will sever your tongue for that!" exclaimed Wang Tao, reaching for one of his daggers hidden inside his black silk vest, but Will stopped his gesture.

"I am no demon, Chambers. I am simply a man who wanted to save his friend and innocent people from your employer's wrath."

"THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN YOU DON'T HAVE ANY WOUNDS?" yelled the Commander in a hysterical voice. "HOW YOU CAN BE SO CALM, WHY ARE YOU ALIVE? HOW CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE VOLLEY GUN DIDN'T KILL YOU?"

Will looked at his father, and said: "I am loved."

That simple answer efficiently shut Chambers up, and then the Commander started crying uncontrollably – earning disdainful glances from his comrades-in-chains, but Will didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was guiding the _Black Pearl II_'s accurately and to retrieve Jack, since Beckett Senior was still on the loose and he wasn't the kind of man to surrender without lashing out at his enemies one last time.

"Mister Turner?"

"Aye, Captain?" answered Bill, instantly taking up his responsibilities as First Mate of the Flying Dutchman.

"I am going to help Jack in capturing Beckett once and for all, and we definitively need to get this ship out of these waters. Can I ask you to pilot the _Black Pearl II_?"

"With pleasure, Captain," and Will discreetly squeezed his father's hand.

"All right men, listen up!" said the young man in his best commanding voice. "You will follow Mister Turner's orders to the letter; he's in charge here until your Captain is back! Mister Wang Tao, I trust you to guard the prisoners - and no tongue-ripping, understand? Pintel, Ragetti, go downstairs to see how our passengers are fairing. Cotton, get some men and clear the main deck! Marty, which way went Beckett and Jack?"

"Beckett climbed the mainmast's riggings, and Jack's just behind him."

"Fine," said Will and, with a last smile at his father, the young man closed his eyes and disappeared from the deck.

Pirates and prisoners cried out of surprise and fear after they saw Will's sudden "vanishing" – Chambers' sobs even increased –, apart from Bill who looked up in the direction of the crow's nest. The night was too dark for him to discern anything above the first yard-arms, but he knew that his son would somehow manage to find his friend. But Jack was still in danger: wandering in a ship's riggings during a tempest at night was already a perilous situation, and Beckett Senior was also up there, half-mad with revenge and despair.

Bootstrap didn't hesitate a second and he rushed to the helm; Cotton obligingly gave up his place at the wheel, as his drenched parrot muttered: _"Aye, aye, Sir!"_ and the elder Turner grabbed forcefully the pegs, willing the _Black Pearl II_ to change its course in spite of the violent, changing winds. He couldn't help Will in whatever was happening in the yard-arms but at least, he could guide the ship to safety!

TBC…


	25. Kicking the Beckett

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- A "_laius_" is a speech in Latin.

- To Smithy: yes, Will is busy between two rounds of soul-ferrying… then again, life's never boring with CJS around! :oD

- The traitors frozen in the lake of ice Cocytus refers to the "Inferno" part of the _Divine Comedy_, written in the 14th century by Dante Alighieri (1265–1321).

- Jack is quoting from the play _Henry IV_, part 2, act 5, scene 5, written between 1596 and 1599 by William Shakespeare (1564–1616).

* * *

**Chapter 2****4: Kicking the Beckett**

_On the _Black Pearl II_'s yard-arms…_

"C'mon, you badly-expelled excrement! Sing with me before meeting your betters in Hell! **Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me**…"

"HELP!" yelled Beckett Senior, his eyes wide open in terror.

If Humphrey, the terrified manservant, had been present at the scene, he would hardly have recognized his bully of an employer. Cuthbert Beckett had always showed a pitiful example of the aristocracy, but his demeanor would have disgusted even the most supine servant: disheveled, soaking wet in his red costume, he was desperately trying to distance himself from the crazy pirate captain by hiding in the _Black Pearl II_'s yardarms in the hopes the unsure-footed Sparrow would slip and fall to his death.

Beckett knew this was a desperate maneuver, but what else could he do? He was alone aboard an enemy ship and his former prisoner, mistaking him for another nemesis called _"Jones"_, seemed resolute to murder him. The only thing left to do was to kill Sparrow, so he would finally have his vengeance! But the cost of this last stand was very high and Beckett moaned in fright as the ship danced dangerously on the raging sea, while deafening thunder roared through the sky and violent flashes of lightning ruined his night vision. The mainmast was groaning and shaking like during an earthquake, and the rain was making the ropes and the wooden poles quite slippery.

Beckett had climbed the mainmast's rigging in the hopes of reaching the crow's nest, with the intention of kicking at his pursuer's face until Sparrow's smile would be wiped out of his face forever. But an empty wide-mesh barrel net, swinging at the end of a rope, kept on banging violently against the crow's nest, thus impeaching Beckett's plan. So he had only managed to step on a footrope and hold for dear life on the fore lower topsail yard, while silently praying Satan to make the pirate captain fall down. The _Pearl_'s pitching and rolling were already hard to endure on the main deck, but in the yardarms the instability was multiplied by ten during a tempest: many an experienced sailor had met his end in those conditions.

But Beckett Senior had made a crucial mistake: his abhorred enemy didn't seem bothered by the weather or the heaving cruise of the _Pearl_. And it was all due to the fact that he was…

"**Captain Jack Sparrow!" **yelled Jack with a flourish of his sword, neatly cutting in two a standing rope. He was still seeing Davy Jones instead of Cuthbert Beckett and the "sight" of his hated foe had decupled his strength. **"You're gonna get it, Jones, by all the rum of the Caribbean!"**

"I am not Jones!" yelled Beckett, who was slowly recoiling from the mainmast. His left foot collided abruptly against one of the vertical stirrups maintaining the footrope in place and he cursed abundantly against ships in general and this pirate vessel in particular, but Jack took no notice of this blatant disrespect towards his pride and joy. The shocking sight of Will being gunned down had proven to be too much for Jack's strange-working mind, making him hallucinate and his eyes could only "see" painful images from his past.

_Jones, t__he cruel former Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_… The creature that had used his broken heart as pretext to justify the vilest actions ever committed on the sea… The octopus-bearded fiend who had enslaved hundreds of sailors – Bootstrap Bill amongst them – before turning them into hideous freaks of Nature… The monster who had wanted to imprison the great Captain Sparrow in the Locker…_

"Jones," growled Jack. He started walking on the yardarm, unconcerned by the pouring rain and the violent gushes of wind.

_Davy Jones… The demon who had tried to kill his baby brother!_

"**You thought you would escape my wrath, Jonesy?"** roared the crazed pirate. **"You actually thought you wouldn't pay for your actions?"**

Beckett whimpered and tried to move away from the mainmast again; in his confusion, he had forgotten to take out his buckle-fastened shoes and it was increasing the risk of him slipping from the footrope instead of Sparrow, so the middle-aged man just held on the yardarm in a desperate embrace. He still had some weapons but he was too afraid to release his grip in order to reach out for the two loaded pistols and the dagger tucked inside his red waistcoat.

Jack had a nasty laugh at the spectacle of his enemy trapped in a situation both perilous and ridiculous: that was very satisfying!

"Not feeling so tough, are ya, Jonesy? Are you going to give another of your trademark boring speeches about your all-mightiness? Gosh, was it ever hard to keep a straight face hearing your _laius_ about souls belonging to you! What a cargo of seagulls' droppings, I've never heard anything so ludicrous in all my life. You are nothing but a feeble-minded, bile-filled jerk with your head stuck inside an octopus – mind you, that was quite an improvement for your face. But you went too far when you attacked Will. By all the pirates, you went too far! And now we are going to settle this matter once and for all, over crossed blades!"

"You are nuts! I am not that Jones! I don't know a Jones! I am Cuthbert Beckett, father of…"

"Nice try, Jones, but that amateur ruse won't fool me. I am the incredible Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything, including seeing right through you!"

"Jack!"

Will had appeared at the crow's nest. He barely had the time to avoid being hit by the empty barrel net before jumping in surprise at the terrible scene displayed in front of him: Beckett Senior, in precarious balance on a footrope, was recoiling toward the end of a yardarm to get away from Jack, who was walking on the same pole like a crazed funambulist. The Captain of the _Black Pearl II_ was obviously unconcerned about his own dangerous situation: pointing his sword down right at the obnoxious gentleman, his dark eyes rolling wildly in their sockets, Jack seemed resolute to ram his blade through Beckett's belly even if it would mean his own end.

And that was something Will couldn't allow to happen.

"Jack!" called the younger Turner, but a deafening bang of thunder muffled the sound of his voice. Lost in his delirium, Jack never heard his friend.

"**We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up me hearties, yo ho…** C'mon, Jonesy, sing along!"

"Go to Hell!" screamed Beckett.

"After you, my dear leech and I hope you'll have the courtesy to hold the door for me!"

"What?!! Of all the rotten nerve…"

"That's what you are, Jonesy: a two-legged leech, sucking away the life and soul of every unfortunate wretch who had ever crossed the path of your ship. But your crying sob story about being forgotten by Calypso won't help you during your _tête-à-tête_ the Devil. You will end up in the ninth circle of Hell, the one where traitors are forever frozen in the Cocytus, and you will have all the time of the world explaining to your fellow sufferers that nothing you've done had been your fault. Ah, they will have a good laugh! Davy Jones will be known as the traitors' buffoon!"

"Jack!" called Will again.

"Bugger off, you! Can't you see I'm busy?" shot the pirate back, not even bothering to turn his head.

Will's eyes widened at those words; Wang Tao had told him their Captain had become wild after Lieutenant Charon had fired the seven-barrelled gun at him, but the young man hadn't imagined Jack would be in such a perturbed state of mind: his friend has mistaken him for one of his men!

""Go back to your post and stop bothering me! Now, where were we, Jonesy? Ah yes, we were talking about your future being severely compromised. Since I feel in a generous mood, I will let you choose the way to meet your upcoming doom: your hideous head separated from your rotten neck, or my sharp sword rammed through your belly. So what will it be, you lump of fish-smelling gelatine?"

"NO! NO! SOMEBODY STOP HIM! PLEASE, I SURRENDER! STOP IT, I SURRENDER!" Beckett had reached the end of the pole and his feet were in danger of slipping from a separated footrope nicknamed _"The Flemish horse"_, located at the extreme outer end of the yard and renowned for being particularly unstable.

"JACK!" yelled Will again.

"You are getting annoying, sailor!" barked Jack, still oblivious of his friend's presence on the _Black Pearl II_'s crow's nest. "Go on the main deck this instant and tend to the ship, I am exercising some justice in here. I am the Captain and what I say, goes, savvy?"

Will tightened his fists in frustration, and then he "disappeared" to reappear on the same yardarm in a flash. Beckett Senior gasped at the sight of the young man standing right behind Jack, and in his surprise he had almost relinquish his hold on the round pole of wood.

_Turner was alive! He was __unhurt!_

Will ignored Beckett and grabbed Jack by the shoulders to make him turn around, but the silver-tongued pirate was still hallucinating and he wrongly thought it was another person; so he swung his sword blindly at his friend and the blade barely missed Will's belly.

"Jack! No, it's me!"

"You are rebelling against my orders, sailor? Men have walked the plank for less than that. My magnanimous nature is well-known in the Caribbean and even worldwide, and yet…"

"For the love of God! Jack! It's me!" shouted an exasperated Will. He grabbed his friend's arms in an iron-like grip. "Jack, it's me! It's Will! I'm all right, look at me! Charon's gun failed to kill me. I can't die since I am the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, don't you remember the maelstrom battle? But **you** can die here by slipping and falling to your death, you lunatic! Please, Jack, come down with me. I don't want to have to reap your soul!"

But at the word of _"soul"_, Jack hallucinated again and he tried to break free from Will's hold.

"JOOOOOOONES!" yelled the pirate again, trying to charge again at Beckett Senior with his sword wielded in every direction.

"No, Jack! He's not Jones!" yelled Will, forcefully restraining the agitated outlaw to prevent him from falling. "He's nothing, just a pawn with delusions of grandeur! Jones is dead; he fell into Calypso's whirlpool and he will never come back. We have stabbed his heart together, you and I. Davy Jones is gone, he can't hurt us anymore!"

Will cradled Jack's face between his hands and forced his friend to look at him in the eyes.

"Jack, please listen to me. It's Will! What's the matter with you, don't you recognize me? Don't you want to recognize me? Has Captain Sparrow forgotten Will Turner? I can't believe this, I won't believe this! I will never believe the great Captain Sparrow has forgotten his friend. No amount of alcohol will be high enough, and there are not enough blows to the head in this world to make the famous Jack Sparrow loose his memory. Not even in a million years! Please, Jack, come back to your senses. I love you, you're my brother. And I want my brother back!"

Whether it was the contact of Will's hands on the pirate's face or the reassuring words heard above the storm's rumbles, but all of a sudden Jack's eyes cleared and he mumbled:

"W-W-Whelp?"

"Aye, it's me."

Jack shook his head like a drenched dog, sending braids and dreadlocks flying everywhere, and then he blinked many times as if to chase the haunting visions from his eyes. Will seized the occasion to grab Jack's hand and make him hold on a brace line to improve his balance.

"Will? Izzat you?"

"Yes, Jack. I'm all right, see?"

"What happened to your clothes, mate?"

The younger Turner would have answered that incongruous question by reminding how his former attire had been torn to shreds, leaving him clad only in breeches, but he feared the mere mention of Lieutenant Charon's weapon would provoke a relapse of visions for his friend.

"That's a long story, and I'd rather tell you about it on the _Pearl_'s main deck. C'mon, Jack, you have to get down. Whatever possessed you to climb the rigging during a storm, anyway?"

The scruffiest pirate of the Caribbean didn't answer; instead, he roamed his gaze over Will's naked torso and the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ understood Jack wanted to be sure the wounds inflicted by the volley gun were indeed gone, that he wasn't suffering from another hallucination. Then, Jack smiled – a shy, embarrassed smile that hadn't graced his lips for many years – just before the self-satisfied smirk was back on his face again.

"Well, mate, looks like you've beaten the odds again. And that's all because you have learned from my good example, of course. You will never snuff it after being schooled by such a stupendous teacher like me!"

"How right you are!" answered Will sarcastically. "But now, and for his safety, I would like my stupendous teacher to obligingly accept climbing down these ratlines before he falls from that topsail yardarm, thus depriving the world of all his great science…"

"What, me falling?" protested the pirate with an indignant tone. "I am the acrobatic Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything, including accomplishing gravity-challenging acrobatics and... WHOA!"

A sudden gush of wind shook the _Black Pearl II_ from top to bottom; Jack was nearly knocked over the pole and he tottered dangerously at the brink of the yardarm; only Will's grip on his arm averted the tragedy. But the two young men had forgotten about Beckett Senior, who had released his grip on the pole to grab at one of his pistols tucked inside his red costume.

The middle-aged gentleman darted venomous glances at Sparrow's back: the dirty, smelly, babbling pirate was currently distracted by his accomplice's reappearance to pay any attention to him: that was a good opportunity to strike! A lesser man would have been frightened out of his wits by Will's prodigious healing, but Cuthbert Beckett was too full of hate to bother asking questions about this phenomenon. In his snake-like mind, nothing mattered apart seeing Sparrow dead – and if Turner was bestowed with magic powers that protected him from physical harm, nonetheless he could be destroyed by grief and what could be more tragic for an invulnerable man to see his friend being killed before his eyes?

Grinning madly, Beckett somehow got his feet out of the Flemish horse and edged out on the main footrope, one of his hands gripping the handrail (ironically enough, it was nicknamed a _"Jackstay"_) fixed along the yardarm while the other was holding the pistol. One shot in the back, and the world would be freed of another scurvy pirate. But the yardarm was shaking too violently and Beckett dropped his weapon, which disappeared soundlessly into the dark sea. Inwardly cursing, the would-be lord managed to sit astride the yardarm, and got his second pistol out of his waistcoat. He couldn't afford to miss his chance!

Meanwhile, Will was still pleading with Jack: "Please be reasonable, Jack. It is too dangerous for you to stay here. My father is at the wheel, your men wait for your orders; we have to get the _Black Pearl II_ out of this storm, or the prisoners below deck may panic and try to flee at all costs. We haven't bothered to free all these good persons to see them running like a spooked herd, have we? Let's leave Beckett in the yardarm, he cannot escape anyway; he'll come down sooner or later, and you decide what we ought to do about him. Now, take my hand and I will "transport" you to the main deck… LOOK OUT!"

The discharging of a gun was heard and Will brusquely pushed Jack down, nearly smashing his friend's nose against the yardarm. At the same moment, a pistol's ball whizzed and hit the mainmast, missing the two men only by a few inches. If Will hadn't made Jack duck, the auto-proclaimed smartest pirate of the Caribbean would have his skull shattered by the ball.

Will crouched on the bunt of the yard, the short section between the slings attaching it to the mast and, holding Jack firmly against him with one arm, he grabbed at a rope to secure their position. Jack turned about as best as he could to see Beckett Senior holding a smoking pistol in both hands, his fat features frozen in an outraged grimace: he had missed Sparrow again!

"So, you're following Chambers' example, Bertie?" snarled Jack, his hand tightening on the pommel of his sword. "It seems like shooting people in the back is the new fad amongst the white-breaded world!"

"YOU ARE DAMNED, SPARROW!" howled Beckett in rage, clumsily throwing his empty gun at the two friends crouching on the fore lower topsail yard. "Damned with all the ones you care about! I will have my vengeance, in this life or the other!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Bucket-of-stools, my luck comes from the fact that I am Captain Jack Sparrow. I also happen to have friends, including a very powerful one whose goal in life is to look after my comely self. And you still have the pretention to hurt me? _"__How ill white hairs become a fool and jester…__"_"

"You won't be able to hide behind Turner forever, Sparrow! The day will come where you will face the hangman alone. I know how to neutralize Turner, simply by capturing the burly fool who is his father. It won't be difficult since that big fellow doesn't seem too bright in the head, for yelling his identity out loud in front of a hundred witnesses!"

Will's handsome features hardened at those insulting words, but Beckett wasn't finished in slandering Bootstrap Bill:

"And let's not forget to mention his disgusting display of emotions after watching his precious brat being gunned down: tears, screams, pleadings, the whole lot! That kind of wimpy attitude is good only for women and low-lifers. I have never hugged my son a day in my life!"

"That explains a lot!" said Jack.

This last barb seemed to definitively throw Beckett over the edge. He pulled out a dagger from inside his vest and, his mouth muttering incoherent words, he climbed on the yardarm and walked towards Jack and Will, his blade held up high in the air.

"DIE, YOU SCUM! DIE!"

All of a sudden, a bright blue-and-violet glow followed by a hissing sound appeared at the yardarm on which the three men were standing. Coming from nowhere, the light looked like bluish flames dancing at the tip of the round, wooden pole and the sound could be heard plainly above the thunderstorm rumbling through the sky. It was St Elmo's fire, the electrical weather phenomenon which sometimes occurred aboard ships sailing during tempests and sailors mostly considered it with religious awe.

Jack and Will looked at this glow with such a stupefied look on their faces that Beckett Senior's madness was temporarily broken. He turned about to see what it was happening and he cried out in terror at the sight of the flame-shaped light shining just behind him. The _Black Pearl II_ was burning just like the _Victory_ did moments ago!

"NO! NO!" yelled the middle-aged man, dropping his dagger in fear. Superstitions invaded his confused mind and he mistook the harmless St Elmo's lights with the fire that had previously destroyed the _Victory_. Seized with terror, Beckett also drew the wrong conclusion that Sparrow wasn't a pirate, but a sorcerer associated with an invulnerable demon called Turner and bestowed with the power to cast incendiary spells. The fire was coming back to its master and Cuthbert Beckett was standing right in its path!

"NO! NO, YOU WON'T HAVE ME, SPARROW! YOU WON'T HAVE ME!"

Screaming like a banshee, Beckett hurled himself out of the yardarm to fall right into the empty barrel net. He quickly got entangled in the grid-like structure of the device which was still dangerously swinging between the foremast and the mainmast, and its erratic movements prevented the man to escape from it. Howling in rage and terror, Beckett lashed out but he only managed to worsen his entrapment, immobilized like a fly glued to a spider's web.

Then his head got through one of the large meshes and the ropes composing it wrapped themselves around his neck in an impromptu hangman's noose. Before Jack or Will could interfere, the barrel net banged against the crow's nest another time and the violent jolting promptly ended the life of the hated and hateful gentleman.

With a loud snapping sound, Cuthbert Beckett's neck was broken!

TBC…


	26. A summit conference

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- Jack quotes are from the plays _Richard III_, act 1 scene 2, and _Julius Caesar_, act 2 scene 2, written respectively in 1591 and 1599 by William Shakespeare (1564–1616).

- "_O tempora o mores"_ is a famous sentence by Cicero (106 BC–43 BC). It can be translated as: "Oh the times! Oh the customs!"

- To Candi: I am glad you liked Beckett's exit.

- To Sonjadore: thank you for correcting the sentence.

- To Smithy: hi! I doubt Will would send anyone to the Locker. But I don't envy Beckett Senior's afterlife! ;-)

- Jack may appear a bit out of character in this chapter… but he'll be back to his usual self soon!

* * *

**Chapter 2****5: A summit conference**

_On the_Black Pearl II_'s yard-arms…_

Jack's eyes went huge above his ruined kohl make-up after he had witnessed the sudden death of Cuthbert Beckett.

"Shiver me timbers!" whispered the drenched pirate, his sword still held up high in a challenging attitude.

A loud bout of thunder answered that exclamation, as if the Heavens were uttering a conclusion about the sad end of the middle-aged gentleman. He was a man full of rage and hate, ready to slaughter anyone on sight to get his revenge; but in less than a second, he had become another corpse swinging at the end of a rope. He had seemed unstoppable with his money, his blackmailing and his recruiting of people willing to forfeit their honor for a title or a few coins. But all his schemes, threats and bullying had been in vain: Cuthbert Beckett had died powerless and strangled by hemp. The Maggot's dying prophecy had been fulfilled.

Beckett had dreamed of seeing innocents executed but in the end, it had been him who had died on the strangest gallows. Jack had a hard time detaching his eyes from the scarlet silhouette entangled in the empty barrel net, moving only by the influence of the device's wild balancing. A hanged corpse was always a horrible sight to behold – and Jack had seen it countless times during his pirating career, either at the gallows, from a tree's branches or even at a yardarm's tip. And yet, he had never witnessed a man being killed by a net before.

"_Y__a don't see this every day!" _thought Jack, shaking his head in disbelief: Beckett Senior should have known better than to chase after the world-famous Captain Sparrow. Nothing good could have come out of it!

For a moment, Jack was tempted to give one of the trademark speeches he gave out loud every time he escaped from his nemesis' clutches, but one quick glance at Will made him give up the idea. For the younger Turner, this demise wasn't an occasion to celebrate the end of the threat over the _Black Pearl II_'s passengers: it was a reminder that, in a near future, William would have to ferry Beckett's soul as part of his duties as the _Flying Dutchman_'s Captain. So, out of respect for Will, Jack simply muttered under his breath:

"Alas, Cuthbert Beckett, you will remember this in the afterlife as your ridiculous attempt to capture Captain Jack Sparrow!"

And, with one swing from his sword, Jack severed the rope holding the barrel net; the line rolled quickly out of its pulley and the net went down to disappear into the night.

""_Out of my sight! Thou dost infect my eyes,"_" grumbled the pirate.

A few seconds after, a muffled "thud" was heard, a testimony that the net had landed on the _Pearl_'s main deck with its macabre cargo. No doubts Bill Turner and Wang Tao would know what to do with the corpse...

Jack wobbled out of the bunt of the yardarm to sit down on the crow's nest with a heavy sigh. He had been reunited with his beloved _Black Pearl II_ and he was free with a strong wind at his back, but he felt tired; truly, deeply, madly tired. His capture, the beatings he had endured aboard the pontoon, his clever ideas during the pursuit had drained his abundant life-energy and he longed for a huge glass of rum, locked up inside the safety of his Great Cabin. His empty stomach complained endlessly and, for the first time of his life, Jack felt his body shivering under his wet garments.

"_Captain Sparrow is getting old, and that's a fact. A tropical storm can give him goose bumps, and he cannot beat his enemies single-handedly like he used to do, when he could skewer twenty opponents all by himself with only one strike of his sharp blade..."_

"Jack, are you all right?" asked a voice nearby.

The pirate captain opened his eyes and smiled: Will had "materialized" on the crow's nest, standing right next to him in spite of the narrowness of the place. Trust his little brother to be concerned by his well-being!

"Am fine. It takes more than those mere scratches to subdue such a resilient man like me. Beckett Senior didn't expect to get a taste of his own medicine, now, did he? What a way to go! But I can't feel sorry for him, after all his conspiring to make kiddies pay for his twisted sense of justice. But that net has strangled a man who had died years ago, killed by his cowardice and his greediness. The Bard was right when he wrote: _"Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once."_"

"I didn't know you could quote Shakespeare so well!"

"Mate, I am the educated Captain Jack Sparrow and I have read all of his books from cover to cover, while standing on my head and drinking rum!"

Will softly chuckled at those words, but his amusement fell short after seeing his friend's tired face. Jack had momentarily regained his bouncy self after being freed from his cramped cell aboard the pontoon but it seemed that their victory over Beckett and his men had brought the witty, sarcastic and brilliant pirate at the end of his rope. With his dreadlocks hanging in disarray from his head and his unfocused eyes, Jack looked more a drenched parrot lost under a storm than a triumphant outlaw.

Will sat down and wrapped an arm around Jack's shoulders in an effort to shelter him from the rain, even though they were both soaked to the bone.

"Rest for a minute, and then we will go to the main deck together, Jack. I will use my transportation ability so you won't risk your neck climbing down the rigging. You need to have your wounds tend to..."

"They are not hurting."

"Jack, be serious! Beckett Senior beat you up with a riding crop and I know how whiplashes can hurt..."

"Aye, and no thanks to me, hey, mate?"

Will was taken aback by this declaration. It was true he had suffered five lashes from the whip by direct order of Davy Jones, who had added cruelty to injustice by forcing Bootstrap Bill to perform the chastisement. It was also true that Will wouldn't have suffered this torture if Jack hadn't tricked him to climb aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ in the first place. But a lot of things had happened afterwards and the younger Turner certainly didn't bore any ill feeling towards Jack about this incident.

"Where does that comes from, Jack? I don't bear any grudge against you."

"Sometimes I wonder if you are all right in the head, William: considering what I've done to you and Lizzie, you should hate my guts!"

"Jack, this is ridiculous! Yes, you haven't been too straight-forward in the past and you have endangered Elizabeth and me more than once. But you have saved my life during the maelstrom battle, rescued me from Red Hand Pete: don't you think it is enough to grant you forgiveness?"

"Sorry, mate… Just put it on a very-temporary state of tiredness due to a recent very-exciting adventure, such as breaking out of jail with very-enraged hellhounds wanting a bite of my very-seductive posterior, savvy?"

"What is wrong, Jack?" asked the young Turner firmly, his chocolate-brown eyes locked in the obsidian-colored gaze of the pirate captain.

Jack Sparrow sighed, and then he shrugged before answering:

"I guess I'm suffering from an incongruous bout of nostalgia."

"About what?"

"About someone I have met in my turbulent past."

"Somebody I know?"

"Aye. It was a fresh-faced kid who was working hard as a blacksmith in Port Royal, and he was wooing from afar the Governor's daughter. That kid didn't have a clue about the world in general and piracy in particular, and yet he was brave enough to fight me in a forge, wrongly thinking I was a villain. He was so good with a blade he would have bested me, the most famous pirate of the world, if it hadn't been for a treacherous move coming from a drunkard. But that clean-cut boy tagged along with me afterwards, come Hell or high waters to rescue his lady love, just before risking everything to save my neck from the noose. Well, sometimes I kinda… sorta… miss that naive kid..."

"I wasn't _**that**_ naive, Jack."

"You were worse. And I cannot shake the feeling that... well, somehow along the way I have _damaged_ that kid… especially after I've sent him pay my regards to Davy Jones."

So, that was what this little introspection was about. Jack still hated himself for tricking Will to climb aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ to search for the key opening the Dead Man's Chest, all this in order to gain the upper hand on the octopus-faced monster commanding that ship. The plan had backfired with Davy Jones keeping Will as a hostage, and Jack had felt _"sullied and unusual"_ while watching the _Dutchman_ sailing off into a distant storm, carrying one of the extremely rare persons he cared about.

"Jack, I have entered the pirates' world willingly, with my eyes wide open. I may have lacked experience at the time but I compensated with imagination, and I was aware what the costs of straying out of my smithy would be. But Cutler Beckett had Elizabeth in jail and he wouldn't release her unless I would bring him your compass. Later, I've discovered that my father was a slave aboard the _Dutchman_. It meant two of my loved ones were in peril; what was I to do, just jump ship and forget about them?"

"**I** would have jumped ship, mate. I certainly wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to free Captain Teague, my supposed sire. And I've never had a girlfriend fine enough to risk life and limb in order to rescue her."

"I doubt that very much! Besides, you haven't damaged anything. Yes, my life would have been easier if I hadn't met you in Port Royal; but then Elizabeth and I wouldn't have gotten married; our son wouldn't have been born; and my father would have to serve a hundred years of service before the _Dutchman_'s mast. I took the decision to save them on my own, and you haven't influenced me in any sort. Tia Dalma warned me the price to free Bill would be high, but not once have I regretted it: he has repaid me a thousand times and more with his love. And I know Elizabeth's loyalty will break the curse binding me to the _Dutchman_, in less than a year."

"In three hundred and sixty-one days, to be precise."

A stunned silence followed Jack's words, interrupted only by the sound of falling rain and the thunder's rumbles, which were decreasing. The wind was strong but the _Black Pearl II_'s sailing was getting easier, and it could only mean Bootstrap Bill had managed to guide the ship out of the tempest.

"Jack…" said Will, struggling to find his words. "Jack, you've been… _counting the days_?"

"Aye, and I've been doing it since our victory over the East India Trading Company armada, kid. A lot of things have happened during this decade, but nothing can make Captain Sparrow forget that rendezvous, especially with his memory surpassing the one of the proverbial elephant."

But the young Turner's tall frame was shaking as he laughed out loud in amazement, in joy, in gratitude: the famous Captain Sparrow has been counting the days separating Will from his freedom, like an impatient child waiting for Christmas! Jack smiled like a wolf, delighted at his friend's mirth, and deep within his being a small part of his heart began to heal. Will was definitively gifted with the ability to bring out the good sides of the persons he met, whether they wanted it or not.

After a few minutes, Will's laughter calmed down and he threw a mocking punch on the side of Jack's face.

"Can you stop your self-satisfaction for a moment?"

"Can you stop being head-over-heels in love with Lizzie? No? Then I cannot stop admiring myself, kid."

"Well, at least I know you must be feeling better."

"I dunno, baby bro. Right now, I feel a bit moody – probably due to the fact that I haven't had any rum for a week – and my brains aren't working as they should do... do you think it's a sign I'm losing my marbles?"

"Look, a lot of things have happened to you; you're tired, wounded and you're not feeling well. So, cut yourself some slack, will you? Even Captain Jack Sparrow can feel a little low at times, especially after he had barely escaped the jaws of death... but this time, he has a crowd tucked below deck, ready to applaud him."

"Ah, yes. Nothing beats a massive jail break to write a legend in gold letters, eh? You have made a good plan, kid, but you won't deny my participation has added a bit of fuel to it – Grecian flames, that is. Port Royal must be rioting by now – escaped convicts, missing Commander, a gentleman in red attire vanishing into the night… Goodness gracious, in what kind of troubled times do we live in, where honest-to-goodness citizens cannot sleep peacefully in their snug beds, knowing there are people suffocating to death inside a pontoon? _O tempora o mores!_"

"Aye, and you have played quite a part in those troubled times!"

"Amongst other things," concluded Jack with a snicker.

The two men fell silent for a moment, sitting between sky and sea as the _Black Pearl II_ cruised steadily towards calmer waters. Glimpses of the full moon were visible through gaps between the lead-colored clouds – Wang Tao would have saluted the return of the goddess Chang'e – and the rain was getting lighter.

One would have become worried about ships going out to sea since the tempest was calming down, in the hopes of catching the escapees. But Will knew no one from Port Royal would chase after them, not with the _Victory_'s survivors' wild tale about inextinguishable flames coming from the pirate ship. It would take days for the local authorities to sort out the sailors' story and weeks to discover Beckett's real identity, along with Chambers and Charon's implications in his schemes. The pontoon's prisoners were definitively saved and the young Turner had no doubts he would find a peaceful island for them to disembark, out of reach from the British Crown.

Jack suddenly got his magical compass from out of his weapon belt, and asked: "You know what, Will mate?"

"No, what?"

"After you've saved me from the gallows at Port Royal, my compass ceased to work."

This revelation astonished Will, as he knew the magical compass had been used many times after the sabotaged execution: in finding the Dead Man's Chest at _Isla Cruces_, for example, or when his father and Jack had saved him from Red Hand Pete.

"What do you mean, Jack?"

"Exactly what I've said, William. After your and Lizzie's interventions has spared me from dancing the hangman's jig, my compass stopped pointing at my heart's desires. Even with Commodore Norrington at my heels, I couldn't make the damned thing to work; so I fled to the Mediterranean Sea in the hopes of discouraging my pursuer, but it took a year and a hurricane nearby Tripoli to shake Norrington off my back. Then, I thought coming back to the Caribbean would somehow "heal" my compass, but in fact, its dysfunctional attitude got worse. And you know why?"

"No…"

"Simply because I wasn't able to make up my mind; I didn't know what I really wanted any more. Before meeting you and Lizzie, my heart's desires were simple: the _Pearl_, rum, and a hit with the Tortuga ladies. But you have showed me there were other things in life, like friendship and loyalty; and on top of everything, you have proved me those things **really** existed. That was quite a blow for Captain Jack Sparrow, who had always thought it safer to dump people before they dumped you. It jumbled my mind for months and at times, I even resented you for this clouding of my brilliant brains."

"I'm sorry…" began to say Will, but Jack went on without paying any attention at the interruption.

"During the whole business in trying to find the Dead Man's Chest, my compass kept on changing directions, all the time. That was why Tia Dalma mocked me during our visit at her shack: the compass used to be hers, and she knew only indecision could prevent it from working. I had thought for years that to be a good pirate I had to sever ties with family and friends. That's why I grew unconcerned for everyone, including Captain Teague: his paternity hasn't been proven yet, so why bother? And then, out of the blue, a kid barges in my life and proves me wrong. I, the infallible Captain Sparrow, have been proven wrong!"

"But…"

"The fact was, I didn't know if I could continue with my attachment-free pirate life or if, somehow, I could convince you and Lizzie to hop aboard the _Black Pearl_ and become the best outlaws the Caribbean has ever known. But hateful Davy Jones made me forget my dilemma, and survival became my top priority again. My compass briefly worked again when I tried to leave the _Pearl_ inconspicuously, while you guys were busy fighting off the Kraken. It showed what I wanted to do: going back and pick up my friends and the rest of my crewmembers instead of fleeing like a cowardly weasel, my lifelong strategy. But it ended with me being chained at the _Pearl_'s mainmast after Lizzie had used the oldest trick in the book."

"Jack, I…."

"And let's not forget my trip down to the Locker: there, my compass was completely useless. It kept on spinning like crazy while I was desperately trying to find for me and the _Pearl_ a way out of that desert haunted with Jack-doppelgangers."

"What?" exclaimed Will, his eyes widening at the mention of the Locker. After the party led by Hector Barbossa had rescued him from that dreaded place, Jack hadn't say a word about what happened to him after the Kraken had pulled the _Black Pearl_ into the depths. He had greeted his rescuers with his usual nonchalant insolence, just before starting a "who-is-giving-the-orders-aboard-the-_Pearl_" war with Barbossa.

"Strange, huh? You would think that someone in possession of a magical device pointing to heart's desires wouldn't experience trouble in getting out of the Locker. Just wish for freedom, and the compass would have pointed towards the right direction. But it didn't, and the delusional visions I was having about Tia Dalma didn't help, either. I was _**that**_ close," said Jack while making a short space between his thumb and index finger, "in throwing the blasted thing away. It has been only after you arrived on that beach with Barbossa, Lizzie and the dim-witted duo did my compass stopped spinning. It went back on pointing at weird directions, though."

"And when did it start working correctly again, Jack?"

"After the maelstrom battle, when I found myself alone aboard a dinghy. Barbossa had stolen my ship and my crew; Gibbs had given up on me; Lizzie and you were out of reach for the next ten years. Out of habit, I took out my compass and it pointed right at my heart's desires on the first try."

"And what was it, a coffer full of riches?"

"Nay, it was rum."

Will had a hard time to conceal his laughter behind his hand. He should have known! But the young man was both surprised and moved by his friend's confession. Jack was a pirate to the core, and for years he had been living in the dangerous, ruthless world of outlaws where sentiments were prohibited in order to guarantee one's safety. Friendship, loyalty, solidarity, all this vanished like the morning mist during pillaging or battles against the Royal Navy. Captain Sparrow had remembered this rule well and no one could pretend to have earned his trust enough to become his confident – not even Bootstrap Bill. And yet, Jack had allowed Will to get a glimpse of his past, without trying to hide it with his usual complex wordplay.

"Why are you telling me this, Jack?"

"I dunno, mate. Like I've said, my formidable psyche may be a little bit altered by that little scuffle I had with Cuthbert Beckett. Then again, he was so unbearably ugly he would have scared the life out of the Kraken! Even the unstoppable Captain Jack Sparrow can feel a little bit taken aback after being confronted with such a mug. If ugliness runs in the Beckett family, let's hope Cutler doesn't have other relatives roaming around the globe, looking for revenge: I simply won't be able to stand being in presence of those hideous features any more. Every man has a breaking point!"

Will still had his arm wrapped around Jack's shoulders. He squeezed lightly the narrow shoulder in a reassuring gesture, and then he said:

"Come on, you rascal, let's get down to the main deck; otherwise your crew may ask questions about why we linger in the crow's nest now that Beckett is gone."

"Why, can't the uncontested commander of the _Black Pearl II_ have a talk with his brother? I am Captain Jack Sparrow and I can do anything, including chatting with my William anywhere I want to and that includes the crow's nest. Besides, why would my crewmembers be so surprised? Haven't these guys ever heard of Captain Jack Sparrow having a summit conference at his ship's summit?"

"They probably haven't, no."

"Tsk! The ignorance of some people is appalling!"

TBC…


	27. A traitor revealed

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Smithy: hi! Well, Calypso won't make an appearance in this story… I am keeping her for the sequel!

- Wang Tao's proverbs come from Wikiquote.

- Jack quotes are from "Macbeth", act 2 scene 2, and "Hamlet", act 2 scene 2, plays by William Shakespeare (1564–1616).

- Details about Saint-Barthélemy come from Wikipedia.

* * *

**Chapter 2****6: A traitor revealed**

_On the_Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

"OUCH!" exclaimed Captain Jack Sparrow after Will and himself had "appeared" on the _Black Pearl II_'s deck. "Can't you think of a way of cushioning the landing of your favorite passenger, you infernal whelp?"

"Sorry!" said Will.

He had used his "transportation" gift to carry them both from the crow's nest to the deck. Will was still inexperienced about holding someone while vanishing from one place to another and the shock of the reappearance had made him loose his grip on his friend. Consequently, Jack had painfully smacked his bottom on the wet planks, earning some extra bruises in the process like the time they had fled the H.M.S. _Justice_ together. It explained why the wild-combed pirate was protesting loudly about the rude treatment he was receiving, unworthy of a man of his name, his reputation, etc.

But Will wasn't fooled: he knew this complaining was just for show since Sparrow was tougher than he looked. He grabbed Jack's hand and hurled him on his feet, ignoring the astonished looks from the ex-prisoners, the pirates and the German mercenaries. A quick glance around confirmed the younger Turner that the situation was indeed under control: his father was at the wheel, Pintel and Ragetti were watching the prisoners, Marty was supervising the sailors' work and the _Flying Dutchman_ was sailing nearby, keeping a steady course to remain parallel to the _Black Pearl II_. The storm had ended, the rain was reduced to a drizzle and the sea was noticeably calmer.

Will sighed as a great load was taken off his shoulders. When he had first heard of Jack's troubles nearby Tortuga, the young man had serious doubts he would succeed in freeing his friend, whose imprisonment had been masterminded by a nameless gentleman with huge financial means and a terrible grudge. The drama had increased afterwards after Will had learnt about people being sentenced to the gallows under trumped-up charges that wouldn't have fooled the most inexperienced lawman. Jack and innocents' lives were at stake, and he couldn't step foot on land to help them… all this had been quite a tight fix. But with his father's help and Wang Tao's participation, Will Turner had orchestrated the biggest prison break in the history of the Caribbean Isles.

"Nothing beats the feeling of moving planks under the soles of your boots, eh, mate?" asked Jack, mistaking Will's sigh of relief for satisfaction after having climbed down the mainmast. "That's what real seamanship is all about; a true sailor always feels uneasy whenever he stands elsewhere than on deck. Since I am the quintessence of illegal sailing, my gait had naturally acquired that pitching and rolling movement which became my distinctive gait, thus allowing me to remain a man of the sea even on dry land, and…"

"Oh, really? I've always thought it was due to sunstroke or rum overindulgence," said Will with a hint of sarcasm.

"I am offended! And it isn't wise to offend Captain…"

"Come on, you scoundrel, you'd better start giving orders again to remind your crew who's in charge aboard the _Pearl_. And you don't have to prove your seamanship: Gibbs has told me all about the seawater in your veins, and that simple fact makes you the all-time pirate of pirates!" concluded Will with a gentle squeeze at Jack's shoulder, before he turned around and walked towards the helm to talk with his father.

Jack remained silent for the exceptional time of thirty seconds; Gibbs had told the kid about the seawater coursing through Captain Sparrow's veins? Good ol' Gibbs!

"Welcome back, Lord Captain Sparrow! Have you decided our next course of action?" suddenly asked a voice at Jack's elbow.

"Hunh? Well, first things first, Mister Wang Tao," answered Jack to the bald spy/executioner. "I expect your thorough report about what had happened after I have hunted my enemy in the riggings."

"Quite so, Lord Captain Sparrow! Well, since you have left us in a hurry to run after the Dragon-King's tail, I took the initiative to instruct Little Big Man about guiding our mighty vessel out of these troubled waters while keeping a close eye on the prisoners. The dishonored Lieutenant Charon paid with his life the blatant disrespect he has showed to Lord Captain Turner; subsequently, both his corpse and his oversized firearm have been thrown overboard. Lord Captain Turner promptly recovered from his wounds and he vanished to give you a hand in dealing with the scarlet foe. Imagine our surprise when, a few minutes afterwards, the corpse of the said foe landed on the main deck, entangled in a barrel net and neatly strangled! Dare I suppose he had met an unexpected death during his vain struggle against you?"

"You guessed right," said Jack, silently wishing for a barrel of the finest rum ever distilled in the Caribbean.

"_Shu__ǐ__ néng zài zhōu, yì néng fù zhōu_: not only can water float a boat, it can sink it also. I guess the Dragon-King's favorite threat about ropes breaking necks backfired on him."

"Where is Beckett's body now?"

"It is here, Lord Captain Sparrow," answered Wang Tao, gesturing toward the crumpled barrel net lying on the main deck. One of Beckett's arms was poking out of the meshes, as well as one of his legs. "The Honorable First Officer of the Soul Vessel told us to leave it there, because he didn't know what you wanted to do with it. I am asking you permission to hurl it overboard as well, so your enemy's corpse would be reunited with slug-like Lieutenant Charon's deep into the aquatic gardens of the goddess Mazu. As for their souls, well… I am bound to say this is a matter concerning solely Lord Captain Turner."

Jack grunted in acknowledgement. He would rather have escaped the _Justice_ without any casualties, neither from his side nor his enemies', so his little brother wouldn't have to ferry souls in a close future. But alas, things hadn't turned out as they were supposed to be.

"What is the death toll, Mister Wang Tao?"

"Ten former prisoners and fifteen foreign mercenaries had died during the boarding after the H.M.S. _Victory_ was burned down by the Greek fire; to this account have to be added Lieutenant Charon and the Dragon-King, victims of their folly towards you and Lord Captain Turner."

Jack grimaced: twenty-seven souls for the kid to ferry. Of course, that number would have been much higher if Will hadn't succeeded in making them fleeing the _Justice_ – no pun intended – but still!

He looked up and saw the kid talking quietly with Bootstrap Bill, who smiled before picking up from the floor a beautiful embroidered cloak, the one Ammand the Corsair had given Will as a farewell gift, four years ago. The garment was soaking wet, like the _Black Pearl II_ and every person on board; nonetheless, Bill draped the cloak on his son's shoulders just before saying a few words. Jack was too far to hear but both Turners suddenly laughed out loud, making the pirate captain realize for the first time that Bill and Will had the same beautiful smile.

"These two definitively look alike," mused Jack. "And they are equally stubborn, hard-headed, obstinate, unyielding, intractable, stiff-necked and I don't know what else... They were actually convinced I would need their help to get out of jail, me, tricky Captain Jack Sparrow!"

""_A tiger father has no canine sons_". What else can we expect from Lord Captain Turner and the man who had been granted the privilege to sire him?"

"Humph!" grumbled Jack, inwardly hoping the tale of his assisted escape wouldn't tarnish his reputation as the outlaw with the uncanny knack for escaping any kind of traps.

"May I ask for your orders about the prisoners… The ones you had led to freedom and the ones we have acquired from our inevitable victory?"

The silver-tongued pirate thought about it for a while. The former victims of Beckett's wrath couldn't be taken back to Port Royal, even with the red buffoon out of the way: the local authorities could be tempted to erase all traces of corruption or blackmail by eliminating witnesses, one way or another. Disembarking them on an island belonging to the British Crown would be too risky; and America was too far away. Jack mentally pictured a map of the Caribbean isles and his agile mind immediately provided him with an answer:

"We will leave our guests at the island of _Saint-Barthélemy_, Mister Wang Tao!"

"Isn't this island property of the French Crown?"

"Correct, but the French King sold it to his Sweden colleague a few years ago, in exchange for trade rights in Gothenburg; however, none of these distinguished sovereigns have any love for the British, so our guests will just have to claim political asylum to live in peace on this little island. I happen to know the Governor, and he's a very... sensible man."

"How so, Lord Captain Sparrow?"

"Well, for example he can be easily convinced by claims presented with a few… monetary values, and I happen to have in my possession baubles which are usually much appreciated by this kind of sensible man."

Jack plunged his hand inside his pocket and presented to the Chinaman the booty he had acquired during his escape from the Justice: the gold pin shaped in a wild boar's head with shining ruby eyes, the ring adorned with an aquamarine, gold coins and a silver pocket watch which was ticking the seconds away in spite of the rough treatment it had endured recently.

Wang Tao's eyes widened at the sight: Lord Captain Sparrow had managed to grab precious items while aboard a pontoon!

"_Fēifán de! _(Extraordinary). How in the world have you gained those riches?"

"Simply by asking Beckett Senior and Chambers for a modest contribution, that's how. And believe me, they were more than willing to participate, especially with my pistols pointed right at their ugly faces!"

"Is there any limit to your resourcefulness?" asked Wang Tao in genuine admiration.

"Actually, there isn't!"

"That's another _grand coup_, Lord Captain Sparrow! You have humiliated the Dragon-King through and through."

"Aye, and it will be poetic justice those riches formerly belonging to Beckett and Chambers will be used to bribe the Governor of _Saint-Barthélemy_ in order to ensure their victims a warm welcome, savvy? Money talks, bullshit walk, that's my motto."

"Or, if I dare quoting my homeland's wisdom: _"__If you have money, you can make the Devil push your grind stone"_. Your plan is adequate and wise, but what should we do about the other prisoners, the ones who came along with Commander Chambers? It could be unsafe to set them free in _Saint-Barthélemy_ as they could babble about us, even from inside a prison fortress. And I would hardly comprehend an action involving risks to our precious lives by releasing them on land belonging to the British monarch. If you wish it, I can rid you of those unwanted passengers in an expeditious way… "

"Tsk, tsk, Mister Wang Tao," clucked Jack between his golden dentition, "you should know me better by now! I've got all covered, don't worry. Those prisoners will leave my board accordingly to my stupendeous legend!"

"That is good to know, Lord Captain Sparrow, because I have the feeling Commander Chambers has lost his tiny mind after he had witnessed Lord Captain Turner's prodigious healing and subsequent disappearance. This lamentable excuse for an officer has been muttering to himself ever since, or he suddenly bursts into tears just before laughing his head off. His attitude has been a bit… unnerving, I admit it, and he is troubling the other captives."

Jack turned around to look at the group of prisoners, all trussed up and tied to the mainmast under the close supervision of Pintel and Ragetti. Carl-Hans' men were indeed trying to keep their distances with Chambers, who was staring at the emptiness while letting out a torrent of meaningless words. But with their hands and feet tightly bound, it was an impossible task to accomplish and the Hessian mercenaries had the feeling they were getting more than they had previously bargained before boarding the _Black Pearl II_. Beckett Senior had never mentioned the presence of a lunatic tagging after him!

Jack frowned: he knew he had to investigate about Chambers' state of mind but he wasn't exactly keen about the idea of meeting a man who had recently departed with sanity. He gulped, and then he squared his shoulders before walking towards the Commander and asking in an almost-resolute tone:

"_This is a sorry sight_, as ol' Macbeth would say! What is your problem, Chamber Pot? Don't you like the way you are treated? Maybe you wish to complain to the Admiral of the Fleet?"

"You… fire… demon… ghost vanishing… escape… prisoners…" answered Chambers, his eyes darting wild glances in every direction, a drool of saliva running down from the corner of his mouth. His uniform was torn and tattered, and he was sporting some spectacular bruises on his face as if he had been recently into a brawl at the Faithful Bride tavern of Tortuga. That was a pitiful picture of the Royal Navy officer full of his importance, who used to parade in Port Royal's streets in a pristine uniform just a few days ago.

"I am quite a polyglot, but I'm afraid I don't speak gibberish. Would you care to elaborate the voicing of your thoughts in plain English?" asked Jack haughtily.

"A ghost who is loved… fire not extinguished by water…. I know you, Sparrow… you have made a deal with the Devil!" said the Commander in a sudden burst of giggles. "But it won't help you forever… you'll pay your dues… thirteen years, and the Devil will come for your soul, hee hee!"

"You're a bit too late, Chambers. A few years ago, Satan's most faithful representative had the nerve to ask for my soul after a little bargain I've made about a ship, but I kicked the said representative in the posterior and sent him back to the depths, where he belonged. Nothing and no one can chain Captain Jack Sparrow! Your boss and Lieutenant Charon have learned that truism the hard way and you value the integrity of your anatomy, you'd be wise to close that beak of yours since a cuckoo cannot fly at a sparrow, savvy?"

Chambers had another fit of maniacal laughter, making cold shivers run down Jack's spine: that kind of noise reminded him too well of Davy Jones. The other pirates looked up, wondering what that ruckus was about; at the helm, the Turners father and son attentively watched the scene, ready to act if their friend would be attacked by the maddened prisoner. But Jack rolled his eyes heavenwards, and said:

"_Make mad the guilty, and appall the free. Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed the very faculties of eyes and ears."_

"Begging your pardon, Lord Captain Sparrow?"

"I'm wasting my time here with this pitiable specimen of a Navy officer. Besides, I am overdue for a round of rum! If this idiot laughs too loudly, Mister Wang Tao, feel free to clobber him on the head anytime."

Jack turned heels to go to the Great Cabin, but stopped him dead on his tracks as Chambers snickered:

"You can run… but you can't hide, Sparrow! Hee hee! Fire and ghosts… Escape from the pontoon… But another one will catch you! Spies everywhere, even in Port Royal… Beckett knew, he had a man there… By thunder, the _Victory_ is in flames! Hee hee, Josephson should have known better… Beckett caught you and it was so simple… His little spy came up to him to babble about your whereabouts… The Maggot did tell Beckett he would die by the rope…"

Jack turned slowly to face the incoherent officer: would he get the final truth about his capture in Port Royal and the seizing of the _Black Pearl II_?

"Yes?" asked the pirate in a false disinterested tone. "What is this story about a spy, Commander Chambers?"

"He came to Beckett… said he knew how to catch you… Ha ha ha ha, a ghost who is loved! That squeaky little mouse of a Chinese, telling Beckett everything... He said he saw… he saw…"

All of Jack's crewmembers and the Turners looked in stupefaction at Wang Tao, who was staggering from the unexpected accusation. Jack stayed rooted on the spot, having a hard time believing his own ears: Chambers had gone nuts but surely, he couldn't mean…

"A Chinaman came to see Beckett, and…?" prompted Jack, his hand resting casually on his sword.

"Hee hee hee, Charon and his great gun! Thought he could kill a ghost!" laughed the Commander. "He shot it, and Turner is so calm! The Maggot said Charon would be killed, but Cold Fish didn't believe him… Beckett didn't believe it too, but the prophecy was true! Beckett and his money… gave him the upper hand and he paid his spy… The one who had spotted your man in Port Royal… Hee hee! It takes a Chinese to find a Chinese… A spy to find a spy… And Beckett paid the tailor, after he told him about your man buying clothes from him!"

Wang Tao's eyes narrowed in anger at those words: Huang Ming, miserable little traitor!

"Ha ha ha, you think you're clever, Sparrow! But… too many spies in the Caribbean… smugglers, tavern-keepers, even tailors… They will tell about you one day! The Maggot was right… I'm gonna pay for my crimes… Two down, one to go. But you will be caught, Sparrow, there are too many spies in every port… Your ghost friend… Cold Fish is feeding the fishes… Hee hee, all hands on deck… Beckett is in a package, ready to be sent to Hell…"

"Does anyone aboard my ship want to hear the ranting and ravings of this madman for the rest of our journey?" asked Jack, looking annoyed. "No? Thought so."

Jack drew his sword out of its scabbard and, in a swift movement, he swung the weapon like a club to smash the pommel on the top of Chambers' head; the Commander went out like a light and some of the Hessian mercenaries let out a sigh of relief. Finally, their unwanted comrade-in-chains would stop his incessant babbling!

Wang Tao was rigid in rage, his lips firmly pressed against each other to form a very thin line. Huang Ming… It had been him who had revealed the presence of the _Black Pearl II _nearby Port Royal! The spy remembered when he had bought a new set of clothes at the tailor's shop, and unctuous Huang Ming had seemed overjoyed to see him… The hypocrite must have learnt beforehand about Wang Tao's association with Lord Captain Sparrow! And he had warned the Dragon-King of Wang Tao's presence in Port Royal, implying that the _Black Pearl II_ wouldn't be far. So the Dragon-King just had to search the area with the help of would-be Commander Chambers and his worthless soldiers to find the pirate ship and drag Lord Captain Sparrow to Port Royal in chains.

Will exchange a few words with his father, and then he left Bootstrap Bill at the wheel to walk towards Wang Tao and placed a reassuring hand on the spy's shoulder.

"Well, Mister Wang Tao, at least you know Jack's capture wasn't caused by a blunder from your part. You are blameless for that matter, since you have been betrayed by your compatriot."

"I am grateful for your concern about my professional pride, Most Honorable Master of the Soul Vessel," replied the Chinese while bowing low, making raindrops fall from his shaven head. "A heavy burden is indeed lifted from my humble person, to be replaced by righteous anger. Huang Ming, that miserable swine, is currently living on borrowed time. I am admitting the impossibility to punish the culprit myself, since my presence in Port Royal has been recently compromised; he may escape from my hand… but he will never find peace in this world, not with the wrath of the whole Red Dragon Clan after him. After I will send a message to my family's elders, asking them for retribution against that two-faced rat, Huang Ming will be as good as dead."

Will had no doubt the Chinaman would keep his word. For all his politeness and efficiency Wang Tao was, first and foremost, the best assassin of the Red Dragon Clan with contacts and relatives all over the world.

"Ahem!" said Jack out loud. "Well, since this last matter has been cleared, how about you go downstairs, Mister Wang Tao? I would like you to tell our guests the good news about Beckett Senior's demise, and how they will soon be allowed to go on deck for a breath of fresh air, since they must be pretty fed up about being confined in narrow and cramped spaces."

"With gratitude, Lord Captain Sparrow!" said the spy, who bowed once more before carrying on his orders.

Jack and Will watched the small man disappearing below deck through a hatch, and then the pirate captain whistled softly between his teeth.

"By golly, I'd rather be Wang Tao's ally than his enemy. It is unsafe to cross the little guy!"

"True, so true," said the younger Turner.

"By the way, mate, what did Bootstrap tell you earlier? You seemed to have shared a joke at the helm and frankly, I'd appreciate a good laugh myself after this nasty and tiring business with Beckett Senior and Co."

Will had a smile, and then he lightly touched the embroidered cloak his father had covered him with: "Well, Bill told me to put this cloak back on… since it is raining and I could become wet."

Jack's eyes went round like saucers: Will was as soaked as if he had been swimming in the sea for hours, and the beautiful Turkish garment wasn't faring any better, and yet Bootstrap Bill was worried about his son getting… wet?

Laughter rang across the _Black Pearl II_ again, but this time it wasn't due to a lunatic!

TBC…


	28. O brother, where art thou

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- To Candi: I meant "death toll", LOL… Thank you for spotting the mistake.

- Details about the bumboo drink come from Wikipedia.

- Jack refers to the 1632 oil painting: "_The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp" _by Dutch painter Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606–1669).

- Shakespearian Jack quotes "_Julius Caesar", _act 4, scene 3,written in 1599 and _"__Twelfth Night, or what you will"_, act 2, scene 5, written around 1601.

- This chapter's title comes from the 2000 movie directed by Joel and Ethan Coen, starring George Clooney, John Turturro and Tim Black Nelson.

* * *

**Chapter 2****7: ****O brother, where art thou?**

_On the_Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

The wind had decreased and the rain had finally stopped, allowing the exhausted crewmembers of the _Black Pearl II_ to take a breather. The wounded had been sent downstairs to be tended by Murtogg and Mullroy; Marty had boiled water to make a weak tea with leaves from Wang Tao's personal reserve and the short pirate had promised to make some _bumboo_, a drink made from rum, sugar and nutmeg as soon as they would drop the anchor in a friendly port. The Chinese spy/executioner had spoken with the ex-prisoners downstairs and the women had wept in joy at the news they were finally saved, sailing away and heading for an island where their children would grow up away from the gallows' shadows. As soon as the sun would rise, the former victims of Beckett Senior's twisted sense of justice would be allowed to step foot on deck and enjoy the brand new day.

The main deck had been cleaned of the battle's traces. The Hessian mercenaries' weapons had been collected, cleaned and distributed, making Carl-Hans moan loudly at the loss of his huge sword. Beckett Senior's corpse, hastily wrapped and bounded inside an old piece of canvas, had been thrown to the sea without a prayer from anyone – except Will, who had whispered a few words. Apart from the group of prisoners tied up to the main mast, the _Black Peal II_ looked back to its normal self… including having its wobbly-walking Captain parading at the helm. Jack's mood had considerably improved after he had found out his cache of rum hidden inside the Great Cabin had escaped Chambers' notice during the seizing of the pirate ship… and he had abundantly used it as medication for his wounds!

Jack had thrown an arm around the young Turner's shoulders. Will was still bare-feet but he was wearing a shirt formerly belonging to Jack, after the pirate had declared the embroidered cloak was way too wet to be of any use "_and old' Bootstrap has a weird idea in making you wear it, mate._" The shirt wasn't very white and there were some suspicious spots here and there, but Will didn't mind: it came from a nice gesture.

"You see, Will-mate," slurred the silver-tongued pirate, "nothing beats rum for medical treatment prescribed for poor victims of unlawful imprisonment. Any honest-to-goodness pirate would swear under oath that this Godsend liquid is actually the infallible remedy to erase any souvenirs of jail, and I insist on saying any souvenirs, may they be physical or mental. I have rubbed my wounds with some rum earlier, and they are disappearing like gold in a Tortuga tavern!"

"How about **internal** rubbing?" asked Will with an ironic smile on his face.

"That too, baby bro, that too. Rum is an appropriate internal remedy for me poor starving stomach and it has certainly done the trick in calming it down, not to mention refreshing my brilliant but recently roughed-up spirit. It takes spirits to raise spirits, savvy?"

"Savvy, Jack,"

"I'm glad you approve," said Jack before taking a long swing of the rum flagon he was holding in his hand. "Hic! Er… You want some?"

"No, thank you. And what are you going to do with Chambers and the Hessians, Jack? It is not as if you can keep them all the way to _Saint-Barthélemy_. The risks of them breaking their bounds and trying to overpower the _Pearl _are too high."

The drunk and extravagant pirate wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand, and then his cross-eyed gaze fell upon the group of vanquished mercenaries sitting morosely at the bottom of the mainmast. Even inebriated, Captain Jack Sparrow never lost his bearings (well, not too often) and he wouldn't forget his duties as the undisputable commander of the _Black Pearl II, _one of them was being sole responsible for the ship's and the men's safety.

"Well, whelp of mine, their presence amongst us sure brings a little dilemma: if we can't keep them, we havta cut them loose; the question is, how? Mister Wang Tao hash suggested a prompt way that involved a thin dagger and suddenly-opened throats, but I am not keen in an anatomy lesson like the ones offered by Dr. Nicolaes Tulp… kind of gory, if you ask me. And I cannot maroon them on a spit of land, either: that's a method _à la_ Hector Barbossa and it makes me feel like puking my guts out, and it would be a shame after I have bothered to pour some delicious rum inside the said guts!"

"So?"

"So, matey, you leave the matter to me, since I have come up with the perfect solution. Sumthink that will make those Germanic fellows think twice before they attack a ship belonging to the incredible Captain Jack Sparrow!"

"Oh God, Jack… What weird idea has germinated into those brains of yours?"

* * *

_Later, on the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

"Alas, my Hessians hearties (hic), you will remember this as the day you have foolishly jumped, uninvited, on the vessel of… Captain Jack Sparrow!" proclaimed Jack with a wild flourish of his tricorn hat.

Will could hardly believe his own eyes; the _Black Pearl II_'s crewmembers were gathered at the ship's starboard and the men were looking downwards, laughing at the mercenaries who had been forced to climb aboard a longboat which had been lowered to the sea. The Hessians had been given oars and indications to reach Port Royal but instead of being relieved for having their lives spared, they were casting dirty looks at the cheering, mocking crowd of pirates…. Probably due to the fact the mercenaries and Commander Chambers had been previously stripped naked. Their clothes, weapons and possessions had remained on the _Black Pearl II_ and they were facing a terrible ridicule upon their arrival in Jamaica; how in the world would they explain to the local authorities the total loss of their equipment to a bunch of rag-tag outlaws led by the fugitive Captain Jack Sparrow? It would create, once again, quite a scandal in the good city of Port Royal!

In his maddened state, Chambers hadn't taken any notice of his disrobement; he was curled against one of the longboat's sides and he had lowered one of his arms into the water, making small splashes like a child trying to catch a fish with his bare hands. The Hessians paid no heed to the Commander's behavior, too busy grumbling insults in their native language. Carl-Hans was especially furious and his tall frame was shaking in barely-contained furor. He refused to sit on the longboat's benches and he kept on staring at Jack as if he could vaporize the scruffy pirate with his intense gaze.

Finally, after the ropes tying the longboat to the _Pearl_ had been cut off and the embarkation was drifting away, Carl-Hans shouted at the top of his voice:

"_Ich werde mich rächen! Diese Beleidigung wird dich das Leben kosten! Du wirst meinem Zorn nicht entgehen!_ (I will have my revenge. This insult will cost you your life. You won't escape from my wrath!)."

"Promises, promises," answered Jack with a shrug of his narrow shoulders.

"You understand German? What did he say?" asked Will.

"Oh, the usual stuff: vengeance, I will chase you to the ends of the world, I'll kill you and all that sort of things."

"Ingratitude!" growled Wang Tao.

"Bah, if I had earned a gold doubloon every time I've heard that tirade, I'd have retired from piracy years ago!"

"Aren't you worried, Jack? This man seems to bear grudges and to be more resolute than his comrades…"

"Tsk, tsk, Will-mate, I wasn't born yesterday. What are the odds of someone in authority giving money to a foreign mercenary for a punitive expedition against a pirate, after the said mercenary has arrived in town clad only in his birthday suit, courtesy of the pirate in question? Pretty low, I daresay… especially after the story of the naked mercenaries will spread all over the Caribbean like a hurricane (hic)! These guys are going to be the laughing stock of these waters, and the only thing left for them will be to find menial work in Port Royal and save their money until they can buy passage on a ship heading for Europe. Unless they'd prefer to join the Royal Navy but in that case, I don't think their commander will be interested in their personal revenges."

Wang Tao had a thin smile, the first one since he had heard about Huang Ming's betrayal.

"You have a unique way to conduct your business, Lord Captain Sparrow. I don't know what your enemies should fear more when confronted with you: death, or ridicule?"

"Why fight when you have leverage, Mister Wang Tao? This little demonstration of fun at our enemies' expanse will be branded forever in the memories of Caribbean islanders (hic), adding another sparkling star to my world-wide fame. Why, I could even turn into a walking legend, thus becoming untouchable! _"There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat, and we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures,"_" said Jack, throwing his empty rum flagon at the sea.

Will observed the longboat fading into the night. He certainly couldn't feel any sympathy towards the mercenaries who had sold themselves to Beckett Senior, but he was glad they had been granted the favor to reach Port Royal… even in a bare state. Since he had acquired the captaincy of the _Flying Dutchman_, Will had found countless souls floating on the sea's surface, most of them being sailors and soldiers. All these men had the same sad story to tell, about ships being sunk and survivors who weren't granted the status of war prisoners… It was more practical for their victors to "deal" promptly with captives. The young Turner couldn't help but shudder every time he heard this tale: it reminded him of the handful of sailors who had survived the _Edinburgh Trader_'s destruction being axed from behind, by direct order of Davy Jones.

Will sighed, and then he raised his head: the first rays of dawn were appearing at the horizon, turning the Eastern sky from black to pink and orange; the _Flying Dutchman_'s dark silhouette could be seen clearly against the morning colors, dancing on the waves with the easiness of a ship free of any obligations. But Will knew it wouldn't last long. Soon, he would have to regain his board and resume his duties as a soul-ferryman, in the company of his father and the handful of sailors composing his crew… but he felt sorrowful at the idea of leaving Jack again. An incongruous bout of nostalgia, as the scruffy pirate would say, but Will couldn't help it!

The young man suddenly felt observed from behind; Will turned around and saw the luminous black eyes of Captain Sparrow staring at him:

"Come with me in the Great Cabin, will ya? I'd like a few words with you," said Jack before turning heels and walking towards his private quarters.

Will noticed his friend's speech had suddenly improved and his gait was less wobbly than usual: could Jack have sobered up in the record time of two minutes? Puzzled, Will followed suit and waved at his father as he passed nearby the helm. Bootstrap waved back, and then he resumed to his duties at the wheel piloting the _Black Pearl II_.

* * *

_Inside the Great Cabin…_

Jack grabbed a rum flagon, uncorked with the dexterity of an expert, and took a long drink straight from the bottle. Then he eructed loudly, collapsed into an armchair and waved the emptied container vaguely in Will's direction:

"You want some?"

"No, thanks. What do you want to talk about, Jack?"

"You think I'm drunk, don't you, mate? In fact, you are currently thinking that I'm too wasted to hold a decent, civilized, accurate conversation with you. Well, as a matter of fact, I **am** drunk… but it has never stopped me in having a talk with anyone, savvy?"

"But…"

"Since I am Captain Jack Sparrow…"

"…. And you can do anything…"

"Correct! Since I am he, well I cannot let you walk on this ship's planks without a little _tête-à-tête_, especially after you have saved its crew and its admirable captain."

"But we've just had one up in the crow's nest, Jack!"

"Aye, but I've been talking mostly about myself during our latest conference, kid. Even if my attractive personality could easily fill up thick volumes in the world's largest library, I feel it is high time to let you the tribune. Me sharp eyes have spotted a hint of worry on your face earlier, when you were watching the _Flying Dutchman_ sailing nearby, and I wanna know the thoughts troubling you."

Will's handsome features contracted slightly; the young man was furious at himself to have let his emotions betray him, even for a minute. He averted his gaze and answered:

"It is nothing, Jack."

"Don't give me that jive! You have a tendency to brood when you are preoccupied, just like ol' Bootstrap used to do when he was part of my crew. And I hate it when you clam up like an obstinate oyster!"

"Well, not everyone has your talent for escaping problems with complex wordplay!" shot Will back. "Something weighs heavily on my mind, and no fine words will alleviate it anytime soon."

"Gosh, kid, can't you trust Captain Jack Sparrow after all this time?" asked the pirate, looking genuinely shocked. "Don't you know by now that he can solve any problem, in this world and the next?"

"Oh, really? Well, do you have a cure for fear?"

A stunned silence followed Will's declaration, and then Jack slowly rose from his armchair.

"Do my excellent ears deceive me? Have you actually uttered the word _"fear"_?"

"Yes, Jack, I admit saying this word. I am afraid! Captain William Turner is afraid! The commander of the _Flying Dutchman_, the soul-ferryman, the Ghost Guide or, to quote Wang Tao, the herald of the Pure August Jade Emperor is scared out of his wits!"

Furious at both his weakness and his friend's insistence, Will turned to face the wall, his arms crossed on his chest. How could this conversation have gone downhill so fast? When Jack had asked to come in the Great Cabin, the young Turner had thought the silver-tongued pirate had wanted an audience to hear his self-praise, while emptying one rum flagon after another. But all of a sudden, Will had blurted out a secret that only his father knew about: his fears about his upcoming deliverance from his forced captaincy.

The young man was in a panicked state, as he didn't have a clue about what to say or what to do any longer. Should he storm out of the Great Cabin and grab Bootstrap Bill before "disappearing" from the _Black Pearl II_? Or should he deny tooth and nail his previous words? Curse Jack and his questioning! Why couldn't he have contended himself with getting drunk and boasting about his fantastic feats? The Great Cabin was silent, except from the usual groaning of the wooden structure from sea and wind's pressures but Will expected an explosion of laughter behind his back, followed by mockeries and sarcasms, anytime soon…

Then, the younger Turner felt a hand gently squeezing on his shoulder in a comforting gesture, and this simple contact made him feel ashamed of himself; Jack hadn't wanted to embarrass his friend in any way, he had asked his indiscreet questions out of genuine concern about Will's well-being. How could he have thought Jack would mock him?

"Let me voice out loud the worries haunting you, mate, and you will correct me if I'm wrong – and that's highly unlikely, since I am too perspicacious to be mistaken. You are currently suffering from a case of over-anxiousness regarding your future freedom."

Will nodded in acknowledgement, not trusting his voice.

"You are a hundred percent certain of Lizzie's faithfulness, so your worries are not about her not showing up. But you can't help but imagining something happening at the last minute, preventing her to come at your decade-long rendezvous."

Another nod.

"Something due to someone bearing a grudge towards you, or Lizzie – like a Cutler Beckett-wannabe, a pale imitation of Barbossa or, even worse, a nosey representative of the British Crown investigating the events which had led to the destruction of the East India Trading Company's armada, an action which has deprived the Empire of a valuable merchant ally and billions of coins."

A nod again.

"You fear that Lizzie, for all her resourcefulness, would be held captive by this unknown foe, and after waiting in vain during a whole day ashore, you would have to re-enlist for another ten years of soul ferrying."

Nod.

"And you are scared this potential situation would turn you into an enraged, bitter creature covered from head to toes with shells and oceanic fauna, thus transforming you into a new Davy Jones."

Vigorous nod. Jack's hand tightened on Will's shoulder.

"You also fear this "deliverance-after-ten-years-of-duty" business could be a sham and that Calypso never had the intention to free Jones of his duties in the first place. In spite of multiple letters received from Lizzie and steadfast support from Bill, you are frightened of being bound to the _Dutchman_ forever… and in the same time, you are angry and fed up of being scared."

Small nod.

"You think of yourself as a coward because you feel fear; and it has increased recently, because the time of your liberation is getting closer."

Another nod.

"William, you are the most courageous man I've ever met. How in the world can you consider being a coward?"

"Gosh, Jack!" exclaimed the young Turner, turning about to face the pirate while trying to contain the tears shining at the corner of his eyes. "How can I pretend being courageous, if I am frightened all the time?"

"Feeling fear is the living proof that you have perfectly-functioning brains inside your skull, kid. Only idiots or arrant liars can pretend to have never been scared a day in their lives, and you are neither. Real courage consists in dominating our fears; so, without fear, there is no courage to begin with."

"Well, I'm not doing a good job in dominating it, am I?" asked Will bitterly.

"You're mastering your fear every day, baby bro, by accomplishing your duties without a word of complain and showing great altruism towards your ghostly passengers. Any man in your place would have been driven to wicked folly by the injustice of your situation, and he would have used his grief to tyrannize his crew – like Davy Jones used to do. But not you, kid: you are still true to yourself, a man with a strong sense of what's right and what's not, and the contrary winds of fear haven't succeeded in driving you off course. And you are telling me that you are not courageous? Next, you will try to convince me there isn't any rum left in the Caribbean!"

That last sally brought a laugh of Will Turner. It was truly impossible to keep a straight face with Captain Jack Sparrow around!

"Acquiring those powers hasn't turned you into an arrogant, vainglorious Captain full of contempt for lesser beings, William. You have remained a human being, so it is normal for you to feel emotions: love, laughter, tears… and even fear! And no one expects you to be perfect all the time, so cut yourself some slack. Now, if it can ease your worries, just remember that you are not facing this ordeal on your own: your father is with you; Lizzie is with you; and, more importantly, Captain Jack Sparrow is with you. With Bill's support, Lizzie's faithfulness and my tremendously invaluable help, we cannot fail in freeing you, that's an absolute certainty."

"Thank you," said the young Turner while extending his hand towards the extravagant outlaw. Jack made the movement to grab it, and then he brusquely removed his arm but before Will could wonder about this sudden change of heart, Jack hugged him like the big brother he was.

The two men remained embraced for a long time, and Jack had a small smile after he heard Will's soft sigh of relief against his ear. The kid was feeling better thanks to Captain Sparrow, whose cleverness wasn't confined exclusively to his brains: he also possessed heart intelligence and he knew how to use it… but only for the persons he cared about, and they could be numbered on the fingers of one hand.

Jack tightened his hold on Will, and then he said: "The great Shakespeare, my spiritual father, has written this: _"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em." _Tia Dalma was right about you, buddy o' mine: there is a touch of destiny about you, and it will help you in breaking this accursed bound to the _Dutchman_ for good, thanks to your ability for making people love you."

"From your lips to God's ears, Jack."

"Oh, He will listen to me all right. I am Captain Jack Sparrow, remember?"

A muffled chuckle was heard, and then Jack broke the embrace to consider long and hard the young man he had elected as his sibling.

"Matey, when we were talking in the crow's nest, you've mentioned a son… You _do_ have a child?"

Will's eyes widened at the sudden realization that Jack hadn't been aware of the existence of William III, living with his mother on Shipwreck Island. In a flash, he understood why: Elizabeth had been jailed after Cutler Beckett had arrested her on the charges of conspiring to set free a man lawfully convicted and condemned to death – namely, the famous Captain Sparrow. Governor Swann had broken the bars of his daughter's cell to make her flee Port Royal, and Elizabeth had to choice but to seek after Will in Tortuga since she had been declared an outlaw for her association with pirates. After Beckett had been defeated, Elizabeth had settled down in Shipwreck Island to wait for her beloved husband to return but she was still wanted in Jamaica for her previous "crimes against the Empire", so she had kept a low profile for years… all this to protect their son.

"Aye, his name is also William, Will-Trey for short; and he's eight years old."

"Shiver me timbers!" exclaimed Jack, his eyes huge in bewilderment. "The whelp has a puppy! Well, wow! That's great news, mate! Congratulations! The honeymoon has been productive! Guess it serves me right for all the eunuch jokes I've served you… Looks like the joke's on me, eh? But why didn't you tell me before?"

"I thought you already knew about our son… Didn't you visit Elizabeth since the maelstrom battle?"

"Nay, mate. After we've sent Beckett Junior to the Locker, I've vowed to see Lizzie only after you've been freed from your duties, not before. I've got scarce news about her through Gibbs, because I don't venture around Tortuga very often – too many people I own money to – and he told me she was safe and sound in Shipwreck Island, managing a little business and waiting for you. That was fine for me, so I didn't insist… But I understand why ol' Gibbs didn't say a word about the pup: Lizzie must have asked him to keep a prudent silence, since there are spies in Tortuga and one could have grabbed the baby to force her in coming back to Jamaica."

"That's right, Jack. Elizabeth is still wanted in Port Royal for her actions against Beckett. Heavens know, she got into enough trouble because of me…"

"Well, I guess you lovebirds must have been the talk of the city for years! A Governor's daughter falling hard for a humble blacksmith with pirate blood; herself becoming an outlaw after saving my delicate neck from the noose; got thrown in jail, escaped, fled to an island of questionable reputation; got elected Pirate King just before leading vessels against the all-around disgusting Lord Beckett; all this to marry her humble blacksmith-turned-pirate while fighting monsters and Royal Marines, and having his child without an official ceremony involving bells, an altar, a flowing dress and all the rest of it. Oh, such shame! What a scandal!" concluded Jack in a high-pitched voice, imitating to the perfection an outraged lady gossiping while attending a ball at a grand mansion.

The pirate grabbed at the only flagon of rum remaining on the table, uncorked it and proclaimed loudly:

"A toast for William Turner the Third! Son, nephew and grandson of pirates, the best little boy of the Caribbean! And woe to the fools who dare denying it!"

The rum promptly disappeared right into Captain Sparrow's esophagus and a burp rang across the Great Cabin, as loudly as a pirate's cannon discharging its projectile against a Royal Navy's ship.

"Lizzie must have appreciated that you have left her… Well… _"Something of yours"_ she could protect during your absence. Waiting for a husband must be somehow less difficult with a little one to care about."

"Yes, and I am glad Elizabeth is safely away from Jamaica. I can't even begin to imagine the gossips in Port Royal, if the people there had learned of her raising a child alone after compromising herself with an outlawed blacksmith and running from the authorities!"

"Life ashore is no plain sailing, mate. Frankly, for exceptional persons like us, it's better to stay on sea! Er… You still don't want some rum?"

TBC…


	29. Goodbye, farewell

**Disclaimer:** the same as Chapter 1.

**Author's notes:**

- This is the last chapter, and I would like to thank my wonderful readers and reviewers for their support. You are the best!

- Details about Chinese mythology come from Wikipedia.

- This chapter contains references to my stories _"A cry in the darkness"_ and _"In vino veritas"_.

- Italian writer Giacomo Girolamo Casanova de Seingalt (1725–1798) escaped from "The Leads" prison in Venice, in 1755.

- Jack quotes Roman poet Publius Vergilius Maro alias Virgil (70 B.C. – 19 B.C.) from his book _"The Aeneid",_ written between 29 B.C. -19 B.C.

* * *

**Chapter 2****8: Good-bye, farewell**

_On the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck…_

Slowly but steadily, the sun appeared at the Eastern horizon, its rays chasing away the fears and the fights of the previous night. Every crewmember of the _Black Pearl II_ paused in his chores to look at this glorious ball of fire shining just above the salty waters: just hours ago, they had been certain they would see the sun again only from the gallows' stairs; but thanks to Captain Jack and his friends, they had escaped in the most unforgivable prison break the Caribbean had ever witnessed and they were looking at the sun, feeling the wind in their faces and a rolling floor beneath their feet. Freedom had never tasted any sweeter!

Wang Tao silently praised the appearance of Xihe the sun goddess, travelling around the world on a carriage pulled by the last Sun-bird, offspring of Dijun, god of the Eastern Heaven. The Dragon-King's body had been committed to Mazu, the sea goddess, and the mighty ship bearing the name of a dark gemstone was tracing its course under a cloudless indigo sky, dutifully followed by the Soul Vessel.

It was a beautiful brand-new day and the Chinese spy couldn't even begin to imagine the fame Lord Captain Sparrow would acquire after his impromptu passengers had been disembarked in Saint-Barthélemy. As soon as their feet would hit solid land, the ex-pontoon prisoners would babble day and night about their rescue, bringing praise to the bird-named pirate and eternal shame to his fallen foes. Too bad Commander Chambers had lost his mind after the battle: it would have been exhilarating to see the disgraced officer being mocked for life in the streets of Port Royal! But the display of Lord Captain Turner's powers had been too much for Chambers' minuscule brains to bear.

Speaking of whom… Wang Tao turned about and saw Jack and Will coming out of the Great Cabin. Lord Captain Sparrow's gait seemed to be wobblier than before, suggesting another rum overindulgence… or maybe it was emotion from the imminent departure of Lord Captain Turner? Wang Tao knew the young commander of the Soul Vessel would have to leave the _Black Pearl II'_s board soon, along with his Honorable Lord First Officer, as spirits' matters had to be dealt with the utmost discretion; alas, it didn't make the idea of a separation any easier. But before the Chinaman could ponder any further, Will walked towards Marty and Cotton while Jack called out:

"Mister Wang Tao?"

"I am here, Lord Captain Sparrow. How may I serve you?"

"Will and his old man are about to leave the _Pearl_, so I'd like you to take charge of the wheel. With that good wind at our back, we'll be able to reach Saint-Barthélemy before midday and we are in dire need of food and ammunitions. We've got extra hungry mouths to feed, too, and the only barrels left aboard are full of stale water… not a hearty breakfast to propose to the folks settled below deck, now, it is?"

"I approve your words, as I regret to inform you that during the seizing of your ship, Commander Chambers' men have also raided my personal provisions of rice," said the spy while observing from the corner of his eye Lord Captain Turner shaking hands with Little Big Man and Silent One.

"So, Mister Wang Tao, I trust your piloting skills in making the _Pearl _reach its destination in record time, so we could all enjoy a good meal at the _Sirène éplorée _(the tearful mermaid), the best tavern of Saint-Barthélemy! It is located in the area of Carenage because it provides good shelter for damaged ships and the _Black Pearl II_ could use some repairs. The new Swedish colonists have the crazy idea to build a capital there in honor of their King Gustav number three… Well, at least it will keep them busy and away from our interesting persons so let's get on with it, savvy?"

"Savvy, Lord Captain Sparrow."

The Chinese bowed and climbed the helm's stairs before addressing Bootstrap Bill, who was still standing at the _Black Pearl II_'s wheel:

"Honorable Lord First Officer of the Soul Vessel, Lord Captain Sparrow has asked me to take over the piloting tasks. My feeble person is unworthy of such an honor but I have accepted nonetheless, at the cost of being forced to ask you the favor to let me maneuver our ship's wheel. I hope you will forgive my intrusion…"

"You are too modest, Mister Wang Tao, and you constantly forget that I am in your debt for helping me saving my son from Red Hand Pete! There you go," said the elder Turner good-naturally, stepping away from the wheel.

"Thank you," said the Chinese, grabbing the pegs to help the ship in keeping a straight course. "As for the matter over Red Hand Pete, I daresay my participation has been quite small, therefore no debt can exist between us. I am a mere spy while you are a formidable warrior; until the day I draw my last breath, I'll never forget the image of you fighting enemies aboard _The Conqueror_. It was like watching a mythological hero!"

Bill shook his head, baffled by the small man's politeness towards him. During his whole life, the elder Turner had been the low man of the totem pole and he wasn't used to be praised for his courage or his fighting skills. In fact, Wang Tao's words unintentionally made him feel like a usurper.

"Er... Thank you, Mister Wang Tao, but you're mistaken. Whatever I did in the past, it is nothing compared to the actions Will has done in order to save me and the _Dutchman_'s crew from Davy Jones."

"Truth is, Honorable Lord First Officer of the Soul Vessel; but still I allow myself to insist about your combativeness!"

"I was just trying to save my son; Red Hand Pete wanted the Dead Man's Chest for his own selfish purposes. But remember that Will would have been silent for years, no matter how many tortures he would suffer, just to keep us all safe from that would-be tyrant. Will is the real hero, not me. And for these actions, there is no doubt in my heart that he will be freed from his duties after ten years of soul-ferrying."

"_Shi nian feng shui lun liu zhuang_: luck will change in ten years. May Guan Yin, goddess of mercy, grant your wish... even if the Pure August Jade Emperor will be sorry to lose a perfect herald. But the Heavenly Grandfather's compassion is great and he knows a hero's actions must always be rewarded, in order to respect the equilibrium on which our world rest upon. Otherwise there would be only chaos, like the ones created by a herd of _yaojing_ (demons) invading the Earth!"

Bill wasn't sure to fully understand what Wang Tao was referring to, but he preferred to let the matter drop and he extended his hand towards the spy.

"Well, anyway you have my thanks, Mister Wang Tao. If you haven't found the _Flying Dutchman_ so quickly, we wouldn't have heard of Jack's ordeal and Will would have been forced to ferry his soul... it would have been awful for him to learn about his friend's demise in such a fashion."

"Quite so, Honorable Lord First Officer of the Soul Vessel, and I would have hated it if Lord Captain Turner had to suffer from any kind of hardships. The Dragon-King had no right to lay a paw on our rightful commander, anyway, so I am glad to have participated in its downfall. Besides, don't you think our lives would be very empty without Lord Captain Sparrow to enrich them with his charming personality?"

That brought a laugh out of Bill, who shook Wang Tao's hand before climbing down the helm's staircase – unaware the Chinaman was grimacing in pain behind his back. It would take a while before Wang Tao's fingers would stop hurting from Bootstrap's grip!

The elder Turner nodded to Marty and Cotton, whose parrot flapped its wings before squawking _"Wind in your sails!"_, and then he noted Will saluting that pair of idiots Pintel and Ragetti. It was a surprising sight, since the dim-witted duo had betrayed Jack in the past and even played a part in Barbossa's sending his father to the depths; but Bill wasn't surprised, since Will was a forgiving being and he would never use his status of Captain of the ghost ship to terrorize former adversaries... He had even forgiven to Red Hand Pete's men before ferrying their souls, for Heaven's sake!

Bill wasn't so keen on forgetting past deeds, so he merely grunted in the direction of Pintel and Ragetti, making the former jump into the arms of his acolyte out of fright. Pintel protested and dropped the skinny pirate on the main deck's planks, which started another round of arguments the pair was famous for.

"What's the big idea? Go climb somebody else!"

"You're blind or something? Bootstrap growled at me!"

"He didn't growled, you nervous sissy, he grunted! Of all the stupid things..."

"Grunted, my foot! He barred his teeth and his fangs, just like a hellhound!"

"Well, I don't know how jumping into my arms would have helped you in this case!"

"Oh sure, whenever it comes to protect a fellow shipmate and comrade-in-arms from great danger, you're nowhere to be seen!"

"Repeat that?"

"You heard!"

One of Pintel's fists collided with Ragetti's good eye, and the argument developed into a demonstration of fighting techniques involving various kicks, punches, and the breaking of gun cleaners on the opponents' skulls, all this with the gracefulness of a bunch of schoolboys. Will had put the embroidered cloak back on his shoulders; he shook his head at this comical rumble and then he spoke to Jack:

"Some things definitively never change."

"Aye, but I would hate to deprive the _Pearl_ from her favorite pair of buffoons. They create quite an ambiance onboard, and the men have been taking bets for months about which one will start the next fight. Marty told me the bets have been carried on during their stay at the pontoon, can you imagine?"

The two men exchanged a smile, but soon afterwards Jack's expression changed from playful to serious.

"Will... Are you sure you can't stay, just for an itty-bitty moment more? I mean, it isn't as if the _Dutchman _would depart from the area without you and Bootstrap onboard, so what's the hurry?"

The youngster's chocolate-brown eyes locked themselves on the silhouette of the Dutch's fluyt sailing close to the pirate ship.

"You forget one thing, Jack: men have died at sea last night, during our flight and the boarding of the _Black Pearl II_. I have to ferry their souls to the Other Side, and the sooner would be the better."

"All of them, including Beckett Senior and Charon?"

"Aye. Whatever they had done in the past, I want to offer them a chance to reach peace. If they adamantly refuse to climb aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, it is their choice. But I will try my hardest to convince them I don't bear ill feelings towards anyone, so they won't become ghosts wandering on the ocean's surface for all eternity."

Jack was about to say he, the magnificent Captain Sparrow, wouldn't have this kind of scruples if he had become the leader of the _Flying Dutchman_, but he knew it would be useless to argue with Will about that point: the kid had too much noblesse of mind to be swayed by past grudges and his attitude was as unmovable as it was infuriating, at times!

"As you wish, William – but I hope you will never cross the path of that pair of nauseating-colored slimy slugs. So, I guess it is "farewell", eh?"

"It is only a "good-bye", Jack," said Will while shaking his friend's hand. "I hope you will come and see us on Shipwreck Island; Elizabeth would be very happy to see you again, and it is high time our son meets his Uncle Jack."

"Me, an uncle... Who would have believed it? Captain Sparrow has been promoted, even though he's beyond any distinction created by mankind!"

"You will take good care of the people we've broken out of jail?"

"Are you joking, whelp? How could I not take good care of them, the future weavers of my glory? With them gossiping in Saint-Barthélemy and around, my fame will grow in colossal proportions! I will be known the Robin Hood of the Caribbean, the outlaw who grabbed everything of the rich to give nothing back! I will be remembered as the master of escapology, who has beaten Giacomo Casanova by a nautical mile! Gosh, with the tales of my escape from the justice, the sky's the limit! So yes, I will make sure those good people would disembark safe and sound, since I need them in good health to become my zealous biographers."

Jack suddenly tightened his grip on Will's hand, as if he never wanted to let it go, and then he whispered:

"In three hundred and sixty-one days, you will be a landsman, kiddo."

Will had a beautiful smile, thinking how lucky he had been to befriend this crazy-looking, rum-imbibed, navel-obsessed and silver-talking pirate with the funny name who would rather be skinned alive than admit out loud how much he cared for the Turners; Bill came along and crushed Jack's hand as well, while his son waved at Wang Tao:

"Good-bye, Mister Wang Tao!"

"May the Pure August Jade Emperor fulfill all your wishes, Most Honorable Commander of the Soul Vessel!" replied the bowing Chinaman, his head barely missing the wheel.

Will turned towards his father and hugged him close. Immediately, he felt strong arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders.

"Ready, Papa?"

"Whenever you are, son."

Will closed his eyes… and the two Turners vanished from the _Black Pearl II_'s main deck. All the sailors jumped in surprise – except for Pintel and Ragetti, who were too busy settling their accounts to notice whatever was happening right under their noses. But Jack climbed the helm's stairs at all speed, grabbing his spyglass on the way – ignoring the pain from Bootstrap's handshake – and then he rushed towards the rail to look at the _Flying Dutchman_ through the lenses. Indeed, Bill and Will had "materialized" on the ghost ship's deck and they were warmly greeted by their crewmembers.

Jack noticed Bill didn't seem to have suffered from the rough landing following the magical "transportation" after being held by the kid – kind of strange, since the pirate's bottom could irrefutably testify of that fact. He also noted there were only a handful of sailors remaining aboard the _Dutchman_, meaning that over the years Will had been releasing his men from their duties, one by one… until he, their commander, would be freed as well. The kid was definitively a Captain: he'd be the last one to leave the ship.

"Good luck, matey," said Jack under his breath. "And don't think for a minute I would come to Shipwreck Island without my wedding present in tow!"

The pirate captain pointed his spyglass at the _Flying Dutchman_; as on cue, Will waved at him.

"Love you too, kid. You shouldn't worry so much about your future. Nothing can go wrong with Captain Jack Sparrow sailing around, and you can bet all the rum of the Caribbean that he'll be nearby Shipwreck Island in three hundred and sixty-one days! Oh yes, I will be here… making sure nothing interferes during your well-deserved and prolonged reunion with Lizzie. "_Et ruit oceano nox"_, the night comes from the ocean according to that Virgil fellow, but the sunshine rises in full when the incredible Captain Jack is here, oh yes!"

The _Flying Dutchman_ changed course to head West, where the sky was the darker. Jack kept watching until the ghost ship disappeared at the horizon, swallowing a strange lump that had formed inside his throat. He blinked furiously and then he roared:

"Mister Wang Tao!"

"Yes, Lord Captain Sparrow?"

"The _Black Pearl II_ isn't sailing to my liking. In fact, everything is going to rack and ruin! Is it a pirate ship here, or a cockleshell? This is a disgraceful display of seamanship. All hands, lift the skin up! We have been held up far too much by Beckett Senior and his ambitions, so it is time for us to get back to good solid business. We are to reach Saint-Barthélemy at once and I won't be delayed by anything! Haul those sheets, we have an appointment with the rum served at the _Sirène éploré_e and I'd like the local Governor to pick up the tab. Scurry! Movement, I want movement! And will somebody please tell these two imbeciles to stop fighting like hoods, just for my sake? They are a poor example for children!"

"Agreed, Lord Captain Sparrow."

"Marty, go downstairs and inform our passengers they are free to go on the main deck if they wish. And if pretty lasses want to thank me personally for saving their graciously-curved necks from the noose, just make sure they are of age and their parents or brothers are not lurking in the background, savvy? I hate to be disturbed when in agreeable female company. Which reminds me… how about planning a trip to Tortuga after leaving Saint-Barthélemy? It has been a while since I have last paid a visit to Scarlett and Gisele."

* * *

_Aboard the _Flying Dutchman_…_

Will had a hard time to detach his eyes from the fading silhouette of the _Black Pearl II_. He was torn between joy at their success in freeing all the pontoon's inmates, and sadness at being forced to leave Jack again. As insufferable as he was with his constant drunkenness and his self-boasting over his exploits, the pirate had nonetheless played a big part in his life and Will sincerely hoped Jack wouldn't get into trouble anytime soon. It had been sheer luck to have been able to break Jack's cell door while still being condemned to not step foot on dry land!

Will sighed, and then he felt someone hugging him from behind. He didn't need to turn his head to know who the person was.

"Don't be sad, my Little One. You'll see Jack again, and sooner than you think," said Bootstrap Bill in Will's ear.

"I know, Papa. It is just… It may sound crazy, but when I was aboard the pontoon, and then on the _Black Pearl II_… Well, even with the great danger threatening us with Beckett and his minions barking at our heels, I felt free. I know it is silly from my part, but during the whole time of our escape I have completely forgotten about my bounding to the _Dutchman_."

"It isn't silly at all, son. You were frantic of worry about Jack and the prisoners, so your mind concentrated on making them escape the H.M.S. _Justice_. In a way, this adventure has been a welcome relief from your duties. You have been working non-stop for nine years now, consoling souls and ferrying them to the Other World but you are still a human being, Will! And you care greatly for the people you love, including that infernal rascal. So you shouldn't feel guilty or ashamed about forgetting your captaincy for a while: you had to save Jack from the wrath of Beckett Senior and no one would ever blame you for it. Besides, you are a hero to the core and you are not one for standing still like a figurehead when blatant injustice is about to be committed. Thanks God you have inherited your mother's brains: you have put up with the perfect rescue plan!"

"I can't take all the credit, Papa. You played a big part, and Mister Wang Tao's participation isn't to be ignored, too. I wouldn't have succeeded without you and that polite spy."

"Your concerns are my concerns, son; whatever upsets you affects me, and I don't take it lightly when something bothers you. As for Wang Tao, he certainly didn't want to lose a good business partner; he confessed his association with Jack has been very enriching!"

Will smiled at those words, and Bootstrap seized the occasion to press a kiss on the top of his son's head. The young man silently thanked his stars for having his caring, loving father back in his life after years of painful separation. Bill still thought of himself unworthy of his son's sacrifice to save him from a terrible fate, but Will knew otherwise. How could anyone let a man suffer martyrdom aboard a ship led by a monster, while living a good life ashore? Will knew he wouldn't have been able to abandon his father after witnessing the awful state he was in, even if Bill had begged to forget him: the young Turner would never have been able to live with himself if he had done so.

"Do you feel all right, Papa?"

"I do, my love. Why?" asked Bill, a bit puzzled by the question.

"Because when we came back to the _Flying Dutchman_, I've used my "transportation" ability while holding you in my arms and Jack said the landing can be pretty rough. It is true that after I got him out of the _Justice_ and down the Pearl's mainmast, the shock made me drop him both times…"

Bootstrap snorted in derision: trust Jack to complain about trifling matters!

"It went fine, son. I landed on my feet, remember? I'm probably too heavy for you to drop me on the deck like a barrel full of gunpowder – unlike that grumbling mischief-maker full of fake imperial airs. Now, about you going to the Great Cabin, my darling?" said Bootstrap Bill, gently releasing his embrace. "You have an urgent business to attend there, since I remember a certain parcel being picked up from Tortuga recently and I'm ready to bet it is full of letters."

"Aye, and it probably contains one from Elizabeth for you."

The elder Turner shook his head affectionately: his daughter-in-law had always included notes for him inside the packages she prepared for her husband, and Will-Trey loved to add an extra drawing dedicated to his Grandpa. To think a little boy he had never set eyes upon to, and a courageous young woman would bother to send an old crook like him proofs of love… It overwhelmed Bootstrap Bill at times, making him cry of gratitude in the sanctuary of his tiny cabin which wooden walls were covered with Will-Trey's art.

"It can wait, son of mine. I know you burn to read Elizabeth's letters and you haven't had the occasion to do so since Wang Tao met us in Tortuga. You have been delayed enough, so go on now; I will take care of the ship."

"Thank you, Papa."

"No, son. Thank **you**."

THE END!


End file.
